Not Enough
by Shadowtheory
Summary: Janeway violates the Prime Directive, involving Voyager in an alien war. She and the crew must face the consequences of her decision...if they can survive at all. I hate summaries see for yourself. T for violence, some torture and adult themes. Likely JC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I guess this is where I'm supposed to tell you that the characters in this story are not really mine. I'll say it, but I don't really believe it. Paramount owns them and I'm hoping they have enough money not to need to sue me for this…otherwise, I guess I'm screwed.

**Chapter Rating:** T+ for descriptions of torture, violence. THE STORY DOES HAVE A PLOT, THOUGH! It's not just gratuitous violence. Well…all right. Not ALL the violence is gratuitous.

Chapter One

* * *

He tried to breathe through it, tried to withstand the brutal thrusting of viciously spinning metal twisting into the soft tissue of his shoulder…

"Ahhhhhh!" His throat, already so raw from screaming, scratched and tore at his voice as it forced its way out.

He no longer recognized the sound of his own voice, magnified as it was over the myriad of Jehnz-yin megaphones so that all passing by the facility would hear his cries. His cries…and his weakness.

Gods, he had to tell them what they wanted to know, just tell them what they wanted to know and it would all stop, it would stop and he could rest...

_No! Breathe, damn it! Just breathe. You can't tell them anything! Nothing! What's at stake here is so much more important than one man…this doesn't matter. Nothing! Not a word!_

There was also the fact that he really _couldn't _tell them what they ultimately wanted to know: only one person could.

_She will come._ That knowledge was the only thing that had kept him strong thus far. It fortified him, filled him with courage. She'd never leave him to suffer, to die at the hands of depraved beasts like the Jehnz-yi. She'd never allow him to endure alone.

_She will come. _It terrified him, even more than the hideous array of instruments they waved in front of him, their sharp, carnivorous teeth glinting beneath the spotlight which blinded him. If she came, they'd do even worse things to–

Thought ceased once more as the shrill whine of the torture device halted for an infinitesimally brief time, and the obscene splatter of his warm blood no longer sprayed the dank stone walls in front of him. But he knew all too well that the blessed pause served as a harbinger of even worse things to follow.

The whine began again, muted by the drag of ravaged skin and chipped bone, and the bit imbedded in his muscle tissue reversed. It whirred dauntlessly, spinning backward out of his screaming, fiercely tethered form…pulling pieces of him with it.

His tormentors howled with amusement, speaking somehow over his screams with practiced ease. Gods help him, the sounds they made...

Their words, too, carried out into the dirty streets of the opulent Jehnz-yin city…a favored entertainment for an unimaginably cruel society...

"Ahhhhhh!" Another scream, mindless and tortured, broke free. He sobbed, sagging between two unrelenting posts of icy steel, aware for a moment only of unyielding agony. And laughter.

They spoke, these soulless monsters. Moderately sized humanoids, they displayed eyes, limbs, bodies like so many others he'd encountered over a lifetime of interstellar travel. They had lungs which breathed an atmosphere enough like his own that he could survive on their world without the aid of technology. Their legs bore stocky torsos he imagined housed vital organs very like his own...

And they spoke.

That they had a language at all, could be advanced enough to have developed civilized conversation, grammar…seemed perverse. Such a beautiful thing, language...

But theirs was coarse. Crude. It overflowed with words, phrases for pain and insults meant to degrade and humiliate.

At first, their questions had threatened to drive him even more insane than the horrendous wounds they received so much enjoyment from inflicting upon him. Questions he foolishly thought to die before answering truthfully…or so he had resolved he would. Oh, but that was well before they began _using_ their devices.

Once that happened, he had begun praying for a quick death. Because he knew instantly, with the first chunk of flesh they sliced from his thigh that he could not endure this for long. He was going to break and betray the one person he'd rather die than let down... And still, they pelted him with questions. Repeated them, rephrased them, molding inquiries like sharp blades and hacking away at whatever inner peace he'd managed to cling to...

Where was Janeway? Was he Janeway? Was he captain of the Alpha Quadrant vessel? The vessel even now providing safe haven to the centuries-long enemy of the mighty Jehnz-yin Empire?

And, as he'd known full well by that point what they intended for the captain of Voyager, he'd been brave. He'd done the only thing he could think of to stall, to give her time to come up with a plan and rescue them. And to spare Harry from similar mistreatment.

He'd drawn himself up to full height, stared the lead interrogator directly in his ovular, fathomless black eyes and barked, "Yes. I'm Janeway. I'm the one you want." And he'd hoped against hope that nearly five years of observing the woman had enabled him to do at least a passable job of imitating her fearless and innately proud bearing.

They laughed in his face.

Somehow, they didn't think so. For the deception, he'd received the first of many bone-jarring blows to his sensitive face.

No, they sneered. They didn't think so. The captain was human, like the other one they'd recovered – the dark-haired one. Their source had reported as much. Their source was never wrong. The leader of the offensive humans was most definitely _not_ Talaxian filth. And the other one was too young. It wasn't him, either.

They converged on him, four of them at once, and began to beat him idly, almost seeming bored as they drove hard, pointed feet into his hunched-up torso. He covered his bruised face with his arms and took the blows as stoically as possible. And, all in all, he'd been feeling rather pleased with himself – scared out of his mind at the unprovoked hostility – but still, rather pleased. His grunts were automatic and, save for a few smothered curses, he'd held up under pressure.

They knew there were three "Voyagers" on the shuttle. They had two. One was Talaxian filth and the other a mere youngling. "The boy", they called him. So, they reasoned, it must be the third. And, from the way these two captives had so touchingly struggled to protect each other on the streets, they knew how to catch the third...

Didn't they, Mr. Neelix?

He was never sure when he'd told them his real name – perhaps in a paroxysm of suffering he'd blurted it out. Probably. What else had he shouted in his terror? Oh Gods, what had he told them? He couldn't have revealed the shuttle's location?

Now, they were puzzled. Their scans had clearly detected three life signs aboard the alien shuttlecraft before it had disappeared from sensors: two males and one female. They had two males…and no Janeway. Their source reported that Captain Janeway was positively one of the occupants of the craft – a clever if misguided attempt to distract the Jehnz-yin fleet from its pursuit of Voyager itself.

"An attempt which worked! You don't have Voyager, do you, you xenophobic beasts," he'd taunted, spitting out fragments of bloodied teeth and grinning with defiance. Unable to help himself, it seemed.

Tom Paris himself could not have effected a more thoroughly insubordinate display.

The lead interrogator had smiled then ordered him stretched out between the two thick metal posts. Ordered his insidious little devices be brought into the dank chamber. Ordered the surveillance equipment turned on and the recording broadcast throughout the northern hemisphere. And he'd smiled still as the Talaxian's clothing had been sliced, ripped and ultimately torn from his mottled body until he hung helpless and nude. Exposed.

His tormentor continued, once more laying out the damning facts for their victim. Their source had reported that the captain was aboard the shuttlecraft. They had the two males…and no Janeway. So…Janeway was a woman? A woman commanded the humans? They'd take his silence for agreement, he was assured. Still, perhaps they'd take an index finger also, just to be certain?

Yes. Oh, and he was to feel quite free to continue screaming as those outside not near enough to a viewscreen would _certainly _appreciate his vocal talents.

So, Janeway was a woman? Even better. She'd be easier to break than the Talaxian would and – oh – they were looking forward to it! Wasn't he? She would undoubtedly prove so much more entertaining, too. All they had to do was continue their little show, and she would come.

They did hope she looked more like the boy than the Talaxian. Was she very old? That would prove most disappointing. Did he think _she _would scream so satisfyingly for them as well?

So, here he remained – _nearly an hour? more_? – later. He'd no real idea. Time had lost all meaning for him anyway. There was only the pain, only furious, blood-red, merciless, white-hot pain. Agony after agony. He'd barely managed to cling to reality…and the biting heat of the laser scalpel was turned slowly toward his good eye...

There was a commotion at the entrance to the room, pausing the brutal mockery of an interrogation within. He hung limply. Broken, gasping for oxygen but barely getting enough. He was hyperventilating again, probably. Pounding, someone was pounding at the entrance to the prison facility. The echoes reverberated in his head, making him retch with the sickening vibrations.

Bright light streamed in from outside, blinding him as effectively as the laser that had been paused by the interruption. So he couldn't see the cloaked figure huddled at the entrance or the expectant crowd of Jehnz-yi gathered behind it. But he heard the voice, and his heart gave a double beat of elation. That wonderfully inspiring, terrifying voice…sometimes like a particularly biting shot of whiskey and then at other times grating, like sandpaper. Today like warm velvet. Like heaven.

She'd come.

He sobbed quietly, brokenly as she pushed her way past startled Jehnz-yin guards and reached his side. A soft, cool hand brushed fleetingly across his uninjured soldier, and he gladly endured the feel of her eyes – though he couldn't meet them – taking horrified inventory of his injuries. Forgetting even to be mortified at his forced nudity, he heard the angry hiss of her in-taking air before he felt her turn abruptly away from him to face his tormentors. She stood firmly between him and hell, shielding him with her body.

She'd come.

Released him from this, his personal hell. She'd delivered him, as he'd known she would.

"Forgive the interruption, _gentlemen,_" the last word dripped contempt,_ "_but this interrogation is finished_._"

Soft, menacing laughter filled the chamber. "Indeed?" The lead interrogator drawled, his underlings forming a slowly advancing half circle before him. The amusement in Garan Xi's voice seemed lost on the small woman. "And you are?" Though he must have known the answer already, he posed the question anyway. _Probably for the video recording's sake_, Neelix thought bitterly.

She gave a toss of her cloaked head, shaking the hood away from her face and revealing the short auburn hair beneath. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. I believe you've been looking for me, General."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: They're not mine, but they should be.

**Chapter Rating**: T plus, maybe. Mention of graphic violence. Language.

**Notes**: This will get worse before it gets better…

Chapter Two

* * *

Only relief at having met little resistance in reaching her injured crewmen counterbalanced the blazing hurricane of anger upon which Kathryn Janeway stormed into the enemy stronghold. That she was here at all was incredibly stupid, she reminded herself again – stupid and ultimately selfish. She stared down the leader of the hideous gang of aliens, holding them all at bay with her single phaser, refusing to show even an ounce of fear.

She _was_ afraid. Not so much for herself as for her ship…and crew.

Thus far, her plan had simultaneously succeeded and yet somehow failed horribly. Her ship was safe but two of her officers were in imminent danger of losing their lives – or worse.

_Damn Chakotay, anyway, for refusing to let me go this alone. I should have ordered him to drop it instead of backing down as usual. _

The Oncaveat, presumably, were also safe, but the knowledge she carried for them was not. _Later_, she resolved. _Later I'll beat the living hell out of myself for this but not now._

She'd taken the Delta Flyer and headed straight for enemy territory – hoping to draw enough fire for her ship and its passengers to escape the Jehnz-yin fleet's stranglehold. And, though Harry was an able enough pilot, her plan had been perhaps _too_ successful in the end, for their departure had drawn the attention of practically the entire battalion.

That, alone, had been enough to confirm her suspicions regarding the Oncaveat Senate's prized impenetrability. The reputation had proved false; there was no doubt, now. Those noble senators suffered a traitor in their midst. It was either that, or one of Janeway's own senior staff members had set her up to be killed. Somehow, she'd have bet even credits on the former.

With Harry dodging eight ridiculously armed battle cruisers, Neelix had provided sensor data at an incredible rate, helping the Asian ensign avoid a net of ships which drew an ever-tighter circle around the Flyer. It had been out of character for what she'd observed of the Jehnz-yi not to simply disable the small shuttle in a blaze of weapon's fire. To Janeway, the strong-arm containment tactic had seemed like a hangman's noose closing in about their throats.

Of course she had bet their lives on the hunch that the Jehnz-yi would not outright destroy the Delta Flyer. The Jehnz-yi clearly were informed on a sufficient level to realize what she knew – and to want her alive until they could extract that information from her. And, as she'd predicted, capturing the tempting prize she'd suddenly become to the Jehnz-yi won out over their obsession with obliterating Voyager from existence.

So, personally manning tactical, she'd thrown everything she had at the marauding vessels, finally managing enough damage to provoke the lead ship into firing.

It had not been enough to prevent their forced landing scant kilometers from the enemy base, one engine spewing plasma all the way. She'd planned for that contingency though; B'Elanna herself had made the modifications to the Delta-Flyer's ion and warp trail signatures. The resulting emissions served to shield the small craft from the inferior Jehnz-yin sensors. The Jehnz-yi would have to find the ship by way of a manual search party. Even if, as was nearly the case in the end, Voyager's best shuttle had touched down directly atop the major military compound, they would remain undetectable so long as the ship maintained its grey-mode status.

She'd meant to evade them, to hide until Voyager's mission came to completion and then to power up the ship and have Harry and Neelix run like hell for the rendezvous coordinates; it was not yet time to fulfill her ultimate mission. But with one engine critically damaged, she'd been forced to allow her crewmen to enter into the nearby city and attempt a trade for the necessary plasma, and the plans had had to be altered, and now…

"So, this is the mysterious captain of Voyager." Xi's words drew her attention like a tractor beam, slamming her back into the present. He positively preened his triumph. "I'd call it a pleasure, but we both know it won't be. Not for you, Janeway – as it has not been for your poor Mister Neelix there." Jerking his thick neck forward, he indicated his unfortunate victim.

Her narrowed eyes snapped back to the brutalized Talaxian for an instant. He still slumped in his restraints, his wounds bleeding and oozing dangerously with each passing nanosecond. Kathryn's stomach heaved treacherously at the sight of her friend's severed digit lying discarded in a congealing pool of his own blood. Though she'd infiltrated the underground chamber in which Harry had been held by the time the general had ordered Neelix's finger removed, the captain had seen and heard everything. The cruel bastards had abandoned the weaker Harry Kim until they could break Neelix, but they'd provided the ensign with a small screen. "They didn't want me to miss all the fun," Kim had whispered to her as she'd phasered through his shackles and freed his bloodied arms and legs from their harsh restraints.

Ironically, it was the ceaseless screaming of the agonized Talaxian that had provided the cover for the rescue of Harry Kim; the few soldiers close enough to the crude cell to hear the phaser blasts had been easily felled by the same weapon.

The only blue eyes in the room blurred with the involuntary threat of tears. She'd had to order the young man to return to the shuttle to complete the repairs she hadn't time to finish. The blatant accusation in normally shy, reverent Kim's face had burned her…physically burned her, she thought. He'd understand later why she'd had to rescue Kim first, as he was the certain success, but just at the time of his rescue, he hadn't the perspective to be able to forgive her for leaving Neelix to suffer any longer than necessary.

Really, it didn't matter if either he or Neelix managed to forgive her cold command decision. In her heart of hearts, she knew she was ultimately responsible for every scratch of yellow, brown-spotted skin and every single second of terror he'd endured.

The rage she needed to see her drastic recovery plan through returned full force, sweeping back all guilt and uncertainty.

She forced herself away, swiveled again to confront the cautiously advancing aliens. The one in charge, Xi…Garan Xi if she recalled correctly from the broadcasts…was frankly more intimidating in person than he had been on the enlarged public view screens. The inscrutable black eyes, slitted nostrils and dagger-sharp talons were bad in themselves. Added to this, the large, thick greasy skulls and wide, pointy-toothed grins all managed to invoke the image of some large mythical gargoyles which had evolved humanoid form and suddenly sprung to life.

Kathryn Janeway had faced fear too many times in the Delta Quadrant – and before – to succumb to it now. Alternating her purposeful glare between Garan and his approaching minions, she swiftly calculated a span of about thirty seconds before the group reached her. She swung her arm slightly to the left and took aim with the phaser she'd drawn at the entrance. When she spoke, her voice clipped authoritatively, "You won't touch him again."

"Won't I? I'd say that's entirely up to me, wouldn't you, Captain?"

_20 seconds…_

"Stay where you are or I start shooting." And her tone, her rigid stance, her deadly expression dared them to call her bluff.

To her credit, they did pause. But the general's deep chuckle sent little chills tickling up her backbone in spite of herself.

_God, even those voices are demonic_.

His amusement sparked a ripple of laughter within the room until an ominous chorus of guttural clicks and hisses filled the chamber. "Go ahead," he challenged. His eyes remained locked onto her face as he scrutinized her appearance for the first time. "You can't hit them all before they reach you. And even if you managed it, there are twenty more on their way as we speak."

She'd known as much. This chamber, directly at the entrance (or _exit_) to the prison facility, was the most heavily guarded area of the building. The only way she'd been able to surprise them into letting her near Neelix had been to do the last thing they expected; she'd simply strode to the entrance and pounded on the door. Their stunned reaction confirmed what she'd suspected; no one had ever had the audacity to demand _entry_ into the prison before. It was going to be getting _out_ this way that proved nearly impossible.

The snarling band of Jehnz-yi began moving towards her again. She fired without hesitation. Once, twice – more and more aliens hit the stone floor, cut down by the red, streaking energy of her weapon. The scent of burned flesh hit her nostrils at an increasing rate.

But Garan had been correct, of course. There were too many of them, and she finally couldn't afford to give Harry any more time to finish repairs. He'd just have to be done by now or else likely face recapture and death at Jehnz-yin hands. Slapping the commbadge clasped firmly in the cloak's deep left pocket, she shouted, "Harry, _now_," and held her breath…

They were almost on her, so close that she could smell the stench of the rotting animal hides proudly sported beneath their decorative armor.

Just as the first one reached her, she caught the blue tingle from the corner of her eye and hissed out her baited breath in relief. There came the faint, familiar hum of the transporter…

And Neelix vanished.

Sheer pandemonium broke out among the aliens as each man began shouting questions at once. Without Neelix to protect, she allowed herself to back slowly away, listening with only one ear while she waited for Kim's confirmation of success.

"What happened to the dampening field?" one screamed, drawing back along with the rest of his comrades in fear.

"She's disabled it! It's a trick; there are more of them coming!"

One of them, however, figured it out immediately. Snarling, he stretched a pointed finger in accusation. "No, she touched him! She put something on him! A localizer or something!"

He was right, but there'd been enough time to rig only one of them.

Kathryn's back touched the wall. She stood still, not bothering to hide her absolute contempt for these howling creatures who took such obvious pleasure in the suffering of other beings.

"Search her! Get that the communications device – _find it_," the general howled over the chaotic mutterings of his men. "Strip her if you have to!"

Her eyes flashed fire. _Oh, I don't think so. Not without a fight, you won't, _she vowed silently, clutching the metal even more tightly in her hidden palm.

A very brief silence fell over the room during which the mob of Jehnz-yin soldiers (having doubled now with the advent of reinforcements) reorganized themselves into another half-circle. Kathryn took the opportunity to fire her phaser point-blank into the closest Jehnz-yin's belly, staring coldly into depraved black eyes mere centimeters from her own. She hardly recognized herself as she watched the life seep from those eyes – life she had taken – and realized she felt absolutely no remorse.

She hadn't taken any chances with the dampening field so strong around the perimeter of the prison; the phaser was set to kill.

The distant voice of one of Xi's men carried easily over the relative quiet in the chamber: a quiet punctuated by more clips of energy from Janeway's phaser. Idly, she wondered why the hell they didn't simply draw their weapons and shoot her. Unless…

_Of course. What would beasts like the Jehnz-yi want with a stun setting on a weapon?_ As Neelix had helped demonstrate, they liked the blood, the burning of flesh. The screaming of their victims. Stun settings were far too light and painless to satisfy such a lust for violence.

"The boy, General – he's gone! She – that _bitch_, she killed three of my men!"

_Ah, finally_, Kathryn thought. _The incompetent bastards have noticed Harry's absence. _She flashed a bright smile at General Xi's startled face, taunting him. _Bitch, am I? You don't know the half of it yet._

Another giant uproar erupted among the Jehnz-yi, who howled with impotent outrage at the sudden loss of _both_ their newest playthings, and the phaser was finally wrenched from her grasp. "Harry," she called into thin air, jerking back from the fierce claws digging into her wrist. Knowing her time was almost up, she kicked out at the offending Jehnz-yi…

Kim read her mind. "Sorry, Captain, I had some trouble with the imaging scanners. I've got him – _God." _The young voice dropped softly. "_Neelix_." A brief pause in which a fist knotted itself into her short hair and yanked her head back forcefully, then, "I've got him, Captain, now you need to get clear of the dampening field and–"

There was no way she could do that now. Not without a weapon and twenty or more stocky aliens blocking her exit. She hadn't really expected to in the first place. Yet the comm. line remained active, all that she needed to complete this last phase of her rescue plan.

She forced the words out in a superhuman rush, determined to finish the command before they could silence her. "Computer, initiate emergency protocol Janeway Delta One Nine, authorization Janeway Pi, two nine–"

"Shut her up!" Xi's voice rose somewhat uncontrollably as another hard fist slammed into her jaw with alarming force. Kathryn hit the ground with an unforgiving thud, but they were too late.

"Zero," she choked, tasting blood and coughing up the dust she'd inhaled upon impact.

"Captain," Harry Kim's voice took on a slightly hysterical edge, floating out from the communicator in her pocket for all to hear. "What are you – the Flyer is powering up. We're lifting off from the surface!"

Xi was striding towards her now, screaming into his wristband at someone she couldn't see, "Shoot that vessel down! Ground it, _NOW_!"

Janeway ignored the talons digging into her flesh through the heavy cloth she wore, but the surrounding bustle of furious aliens muffled the response from the subordinate Xi addressed. _Have they managed to get a lock on the shuttle, despite the modifications?_

The cloak gave little resistance, ripping easily away from her at the Jehnz-yin guards' insistent snatching, and a tiny glint of gold and silver shone in the bright spotlight just before the metal struck the ground in front of her.

"We're going to warp, Captain! I can't stop–"

"I know, Harry." She wasn't sure if he heard her response before the Jehnz-yin boot smashed down upon the tool with a sickening crunch, silencing the badge.

It didn't matter. They were gone. The Jehnz-yin fleet would follow, of course, but without the ability to track the shuttle…

Even as Xi's furious countenance descended upon her crouching form, she met his enraged assault with a tiny smile. And as her cranium was grasped, slammed full-force into the ground, she went willingly into the darkness which rose to claim her.

They were gone.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer****: **They aren't mine. Yet.

**Chapter Rating:** T? M? This chapter contains violence, bad language, and mention of torture. Sorry.

**Notes: **This can be somewhat gory, I know. Just hang with me… :)

Chapter Three

* * *

Part I

* * *

Garan Xi studied his subject with a critical eye. His leathery lip, dotted with scales from nostrils to the corners of his mouth, curled upwards in disdain. "You see, Gerros…as I told you. Disgusting. Pale and thin. Hardly any muscle mass. Insignificant."

A figure on the view screen followed the general's gaze closely. The smoother face dominating the small frame said nothing as it continued to evaluate Xi's subject.

The "subject" lay sprawled on the cold, dirty stone ground. Several of the soldiers crowded about her were noisily engaged in the process of pulling away the tattered remains of torn cloth still shrouding her.

Gerros watched stoically, occasionally craning a thick neck to the side when one of Xi's men obscured his view.

"Little alien bitch! I'll cut her heart out!" The man to the far right vowed to his comrades and, drawing back a pointed boot, he delivered a hearty blow to her motionless shoulder.

Gerros noted the way she didn't move. He returned his piercing stare to his general, Xi. "Must they be present for this? I cannot hear myself think over their incessant howling."

As if on cue, another, shorter soldier piped up immediately. "Give her to me, General. I'll wake her. I'll wake her up real good!" A hard slap to her strange alien face did nothing to lend credibility to his grandiose claim; still, she did not stir.

Xi snarled, embarrassed to the core in front of the last man he cared to humble himself to. "All of you – out! Worthless dogs! I should have let her finish the job she started!"

No one dared object. They filed out of the large interrogation chamber, broad shoulders drooping dejectedly.

As soon as they reached the door to the adjoining antechamber, Gerros resumed his inspection. "Fascinating. Much more like a Jehnz-yin in body structure than an Oncaveat." His grey speckled eyes narrowed upon spying the swell above the prone woman's ribcage and his ridged brow furrowed in speculation. "Is she gravid, then? No –she couldn't be a facilitator if she were gravid."

Xi held still. Forcing himself to remain stationary was an effort. His predatory instincts fought with his higher brain patterns for control of his motor functions. The alien leader had challenged him. Defied him. He itched to make her pay for it, to hear her scream as her Talaxian had. "No," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Scans revealed no life signs present within the female." He shrugged. "Perhaps, at her age, it is not possible. Perhaps she is barren, and her body recently rejected offspring but continues to provide nourishment for it."

It happened often enough to aging women of their own kind…

"_At her age_?" Gerros mocked lightly. "She hardly looks ancient. But then…you always did prefer your women just this side of grown, didn't you? Easier to control. You've never really had a taste for _proving _your dominance. You like it to go unchallenged, don't you, Father?"

The general finally lost the raging battle with his temper – as the younger man had known he would. "Shut your mouth, _boy_," he snarled, teeth viciously flashing at the humanoid on his monitor. "I could always assert myself with _you_, couldn't I?"

A muscle in the younger man's jaw worked briefly while Garan looked on in mild triumph. It was to be a small victory; Gerros recovered quickly, smiling wanly. "You see, Father. It is exactly as I have always said. Your obsession with dominance, with victory and power – it blinds you to so many higher objectives. That is why _I _am chancellor. In fact," the chancellor's tone cooled, hardened to brisk as he continued, "for the duration of this conversation, you will refer to me as such." It was not a request. "Now…we can debate the attractiveness of the human form later. It is of no consequence. You will proceed with the interrogation as outlined in your report, but your ships are to cease their attempts to destroy the alien vessel. I want it intact, understand? Their technology is more advanced than most, and I want my scientists able to review the alien database. Is that clear?"

Garan fumed but wisely managed to hold his tongue. The chancellor, no matter his origins, was not a man to be trifled with; he controlled the Jehnz-yin Guard, a force more formidable than even the military. True, the Guard was almost _never_ mobilized, but still...as he'd already pushed his limits by resurrecting the old insult, he couldn't risk further insubordination. "Yes, _Chancellor_," he gritted quietly. "May I ask how you intend for us to _capture _a vessel we cannot even _locate_? They hide like frightened children!"

Chancellor Gerros snorted, his lack of regard for Xi's opinion evident in his bemused expression. "Your base insults betray your ignorance, General. Perhaps if you were less arrogant, you'd be able to see how clever these humans are. Tell me, has it occurred to you yet to wonder why they'd risk sending a facilitator into such obvious danger?"

The smug smirk grated on Xi's raw nerves. "Because they're _not _so clever! The woman is stupid, why else?"

Gerros's lightly scaled brow quirked. "So stupid, that she destroyed two of your most heavily armored vessels? So stupid, that she evaded half your ships long enough to land and hide her shuttle? So _stupid_, that she broke into your _impenetrable _fortress _and_ managed to liberate her officers from your tender care?" The chancellor snorted again. "No. She planned this, General. I don't yet know why, but she planned this. She wanted to be caught."

His double layered intestines twisted uncomfortably in his gut and he drew in a sharp breath, mulling over the words of his leader. And finally, realizing the truth of them, he slumped. "What do you propose?"

"Clearly, she has consumed the toxin. And you have administered the serum I sent?"

"Of course. But as you can see, it doesn't appear to have been successful." He also thought it best not to mention the bleeding knot he'd left on the back of her skull from slamming it into the hard floor or the injury's potential role in her lack of responsiveness. Besides, Garan was always delighted to be able to point out any flaw in his ungrateful offspring's superior schemes. "Perhaps your _scientists_," How he detested that word! "were given too much–"

He was interrupted by a slight stirring motion behind him. As though the universe was conspiring to humble him before his irritating, insufferable son, the woman stirred.

Gerros smiled. "Ah. She's finally responding. Splendid."

Xi snarled wordlessly before growling, "And the vessel?"

"Listen carefully, General. I'm going to tell you _exactly_ how to get your hands on the human ship."

* * *

Part II

* * *

The shuttle controls weren't completely locked out, Harry was relieved to note. He still had tactical capability. _Kind of you, Captain,_ he'd bitterly noted to himself,_ not to leave me defenseless as well as unable to maneuver around errant enemy ships in my path _– _not to mention asteroids, comets...hell, planets or stars, come to think of it! _

That the Delta Flyer's autopilot subroutines automatically corrected for everything on his list allayed none of his annoyance.

He had command of life support, escape pod launchers – _thanks again, wouldn't want to arrive at the rendezvous coordinates dead. That would deprive Commander Chakotay of the pleasure of killing me anyway for leaving you behind! _

He had replicator access. And he was in desperate need of replicator access. Upon the ship's (seemingly) impromptu launch and the termination of the link with Janeway, Harry's immediate priority became the injured Neelix.

He honestly hadn't known what to do first. As a cadet, he'd received basic first aid training, but one look at his friend's brutalized body told even Harry that the man's injuries were well beyond basic first aid.

The shuttle's med kit had to be someone's sick idea of a joke. He'd rifled through it, tossed mild analgesics aside in favor of the heavier, replicated drugs the Flyer's computer automatically granted him access to upon scanning the weak life signs of the Talaxian crewman.

"Harry?" Neelix croaked with a throat so parched from screaming that Kim wanted to cry. "Please…help…"

He was trying, damn it, but he could only do so much at once!

"Please…" Neelix kept repeating, over and over like a mantra. It ripped Harry's insides apart.

"Relax, Neelix." _Yeah, that's it. Just tell the dying man to calm down, that'll work._

He couldn't think of anything else to say. "Just relax, I've got you." The ensign scanned the Talaxian somewhat frantically with the kit's medical tricorder, his other hand clumsily applying pressure to a gaping hole in the injured man's side.

The tricorder bleeped disapprovingly at every newly scanned body part. Though he'd watched most of Neelix's grueling, hours long torture session, seeing the damage up close made the life-threatening nature of the damage inflicted a thousand times more real.

The laundry list of injuries, prioritized according to severity, scrolled on and on. Bruised, lacerated kidneys, broken ribs, a fractured skull – miraculously no concussion though – and Harry immediately loaded a hypospray with a heavy tranquilizer. _At least I can sedate him and maybe reduce the rate of internal bleeding if I can slow his heart rate, _Harry reasoned desperately. The list continued… one practically shredded ear, one – _oh my I'm going to be sick _– **missing** eye.

Harry shuddered, almost retching. _That must have happened after I was rescued. And, I know it's cowardly, but thank God it's so swollen I couldn't tell._

Throughout all of this, Voyager's chef turned morale officer turned occasional ambassador to the Delta Quadrant strove valiantly to hide his terror. To remind himself that each startling movement about his body was that of his friend, not the hideous prelude to another painful invasion by General Xi's minions. To fight the overwhelming agony he still felt as the sedative Harry had finally, mercifully determined safe to administer gradually took effect. Clutching a silver emergency blanket to his rather torn-open, partially crushed chest, one amber eye squinted up at his would-be caretaker. "Harry," he gasped, not so far gone yet that he'd forgotten the circumstances of his rescue.

Kim never paused, running the ridiculously inadequate-looking dermal regenerator over the worst of the bleeding wounds. "Yeah, Neelix?" he prompted, only half listening and glowering at the small tool. It was, at best, accomplishing very little.

"The captain…she was incredible…did you see?" Each formed word was a major victory around swollen tongue and cracked, missing teeth.

It had not been high on the list of topics Kim wanted to discuss. "Drink this, Neelix. Ah – I know you're thirsty, but slowly, all right?" Harry held the cool cup of replicated water to the mangled mouth of his patient. He knew from personal experience the Jehnz-yi had provided none to their prisoners, and if _his_ throat was parched, he could only imagine how the Talaxian's felt…

Kim himself drank nothing.

"Did…you…see her?" he repeated.

Harry sighed. "No, Neelix, I was here on the shuttle, finishing up repairs."

A grotesque smile cracked sausage-sized lips. The powerful, narcotic-like painkiller had begun to blend with the sedative. The Talaxian's world melted into a pleasant dreamscape, watery and warm. A vision, ethereally breathtaking, floated to the forefront of Neelix's hazy mind.

_He saw again the image of Kathryn Janeway as she'd appeared before him last: cloak swirling, eyes flashing, phaser drawn and ready for battle. In his vision, however, instead of cloth, the heavy cloak was a shining silver aura, the mantle of her incredible, normally invisible inner strength made tangible. He watched, astounded, and a silky tendril curled away from the fringes of the mantle and slithered toward him._

Harry glanced at the shuttle chronometer, faintly concerned with the moans of pain still coming from Neelix's throat. _The sedative should be working by now_, he thought worriedly. _The painkiller should be kicking in too…_ But as he continued attending to his friend's wounds he eventually – _thank God _– detected a gradual relaxation of the man's facial muscles.

_Slowly, oh so slowly, the little tendril wound its way up his legs, over his aching body, soothing and leaving newly-healed flesh in its wake. His body learned again what it was to exist in the absence of pain, and he rejoiced._

Harry shifted Neelix's body so that the bulk of the man's weight was shifted to his least injured side.

_The Jehnz-yin general reached for him again, pinching at open flesh, mauling… The beautiful vision of his captain flared before his eyes, and she fired her weapon at his attacker. Her eyes cold and merciless. Harder than he could ever remember seeing them…more enemy soldiers fell under his frightened gaze._

Kim shifted the blanket aside to expose the acid burns on Neelix's chest. The nauseating scent of charred flesh rose to his nostrils as he applied the dermal regenerator to the worst of the burns.

_The scent of sizzled skin tickled his broken nose. He could see, could remember seeing the sizzling smoke rising from the felled Jehnz-yin bodies as Janeway aimed her weapon again and again. The body count rose as she coolly killed his attackers. Mesmerized, afraid, his eyes caught the silver mass about her shining form swirling murky, going midnight black. The Jehnz-yi grew ever closer. He whimpered with uncontrollable fright…_

Neelix shifted restlessly. At the Talaxian's heartbreaking little moan, Harry laid a hand on the solitary patch of uninjured shoulder. "It's okay, Neelix," he muttered, hating himself for his inability to do more. "You're safe now. It's okay."

_He didn't recognize this woman, this dark and furious woman wearing his captain's face like some perverted mask. But then a hand touched his shoulder, and it was her again, smiling. Saving him. And then he disappeared into nothingness, where there was no more pain._

* * *

Part III

* * *

Someone was poking at her. Prodding. Her head felt like she'd been in a bar fight with a few Klingons – something she'd done only once, as a lieutenant. And she'd vowed never to repeat the experience if she could help it…

Someone delivered a nasty kick to her stomach, winding her, and she doubled over instinctively.

"Wake up, Janeway," a hard voice demanded from somewhere above her as she gaped helplessly, unable to draw in any air.

"I said – _wake up_!"

Janeway, eyes still defiantly refusing to open, wheezed finally. She jerked back from another blow to her body; this time it caught her in the back. Groggy, she mumbled, "'S not our fault, Captain. The Klingons started it…"

Cruel hands – unmistakably not human hands – twisted into her hair. Sharp nails like tiny daggers dug into her scalp. She groaned as her swollen head was shaken vigorously.

Something struck the side of her face and, at last, her heavy eyelids were able to snap wide open. As Kathryn Janeway stared up into the jeering face of Garan Xi – _correction_, she mused ruefully, _make that_ _faces _– her mind finally grasped the truth of her location.

_Osalik. I'm in the military prison building at Osalik._ It was where she was supposed to be. The circumstances of her capture flooded in an unforgiving tidal wave into her consciousness. She winced again as another kick to her back hit its mark.

Xi's hideous face, too victorious to bear, leered into hers. "Welcome back, Captain. No doubt you're surprised to see me."

She ignored him at first in favor of listening to the nagging inner voice screaming that something was wrong. No matter how successful her plan appeared to have been, she was overlooking something…

His baiting words replayed in her ringing ears. _Welcome…back? I was unconscious? Oh, God. I only had twelve hours! How much time do I have left? _She had to know. "How…long…?" Her voice was thick with misuse: not a good sign.

Her only answer was another round of brutal slaps to the side of her face. Her vision swam darkly, and a fierce nausea obscured the snarl of a response. She heard the vague order issued by Xi and felt harsh hands digging into her exposed skin. "String her up. Let's see how confident she is after she's had a taste of Jehnz-yin hospitality."

She struggled to maintain consciousness, but it was a losing battle. _Benzas_, she sought the now-familiar presence fervently, _what now?_ But before the answer could come, she lost her hold on reality, once more fading into darkness.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: They're not mine.

**Chapter Rating** T? Some adult themes but absolutely nothing graphic in this one, references to violence and language.

**Note**: Thanks to Singing Violin, who at the time of this chapter's posting still pointed out any of the (many) grammatical errors she noticed in each chapter while reading for me to go back and fix later. In fact, I did learn most of what I know of grammar and punctuation rules from her through writing fanfic and having her correct my (many) errors. Thanks, SV.

Chapter Four

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

"Yurros."

The soft, feminine purr could only be that of one person, he knew. Gently, for his thoughts had been adrift for several hours now, the Oncaveat Hurru shook himself loose from his meditation and opened his wide grey eyes.

Shasta beamed at him, ever ready to tempt him from the path of virtuosity. She enjoyed the game, he knew. She would, for she excelled at it.

Yurros, for his own part, had spent countless nights in communion with the Great Being begging forgiveness for his weakness. For, Great One help him, though he knew she was strictly off limits, Shasta Acor had managed far too many times to succeed in her seduction.

"Shasta," he admonished her softly, as he had a thousand times before, "you should not be here. If someone should see us…"

Her second hands, so strong and supple, smoothed over the broad shoulders of her highest priest (for Acor's following was of moderate enough size to allow for many spiritual advisors), with the delicious skill gained only through loving familiarity.

She destroyed his weak resolve with her most secret of weapons; Shasta laughed softly into his neck.

That one tinkling, silver peal of delight, and he was finished. He reached back to seize her with all four arms. Still laughing brightly, she let him tug her roughly around in front of his seated form and haul her into his lap. Growling, he leaned down to nuzzle the soft fur of her tawny cheek, reveling in the soft mewling sounds escaping her throat.

She let him continue like this for some few minutes before, impatient with desire, her hands slithered up, up over his broad chest to his shoulders. Then, with a growl to rival his own, Yurros found himself shoved, chair and all, onto his back as she hurled her weight against him.

Breath slammed from his deep chest cavity, winding the middle-aged Hurru. Still, he hardly felt the jolt, for then she was leaning over him, and at the sight of her, long hair framing her slender shoulders like a milky shroud, he knew nothing but the powerful urge to give her everything he had, everything he was.

Shasta brought her lips to his…and stiffened, arching her graceful spine. The scarred but otherwise perfectly sculpted face going rather blue about the lips and eyes, she gasped.

Yurros was up in a heartbeat. He had been aware the moment passion turned to pain, and, as it had happened before on rare occasions, the Oncaveat was not overly shocked. He did what came naturally, taking her slightly convulsing frame into strong arms and soothing her with loving murmurs.

"Shasta," one of the few privileged to speak her name intoned, "what is it? It's the raid? You're remembering again?"

She didn't answer him at first, her dilated pupils disclosing her lack of awareness to her surroundings. This, too, was vaguely familiar, though. He waited patiently, never interrupting the tender caresses he lavished upon her forehead and shoulders.

At last, his persistence was rewarded. Shasta Acor slowly stilled, calming in his arms. Her lovely eyes focused transiently upon the concerned face of her lover. Quickly, they slid away from him, and she moved to right herself.

He let her. Not one to cling to control, he'd always been the perfect partner for her, she admitted. That was one of the reasons Shasta was finding the explanation she knew she owed him doubly difficult to deliver.

Her hands – nay, her arms – shook. She shivered from the aftershocks of an unexpected torrent of emotion.

Shasta could not turn back to face Yurros. Senator Acor, however, could.

"Shasta," he prompted, uneasiness lining his weathered features. "It was like before? The memories, of…?"

They never spoke of _that_. Not directly. It was far too painful a reference to toss about lightly, yet he knew she understood what he meant.

_Oh, Stars alive, if only that had been it_, she lamented mournfully. _If only this was a personal concern. _

"No," she verbalized. Firmly. She again faced the window. Watched the stars and summoned her courage to continue, "It was the link."

Yurros's endurance was nearing its limits. He was only Oncaveat, after all. "Shasta, please," he intoned. Barely was he able to keep the urgency from his voice. "What happened? It's bad – I can see it written on your face. _Tell me_."

Feeling him approach almost broke her resolve to remain detached in voice if not in spirit. She stepped forward, facing him a final time. "The facilitator, Yurros. The human. The Jehnz-yi have the Voyager captain."

"You're sure? It wasn't a dream, or…some nightmare? You know you haven't been getting enough rest lately. I keep telling you to…" One glance at the steely face of his leader, not his lover, halted his wishful train of thought. "No," he muttered, right hands flattening distractedly along his jaw fur, disheveled from her recent touch. "Of course you're sure." His expression fell bleak. Resigned. "How did you know?"

Acor's gaze flickered just noticeably. She shivered. "Benzas. It was he who bonded with the captain and led the Voyagers to the Riftga in the first place, you remember." The Hurru nodded curtly, acknowledging the truth of her statement as she continued, "His connection with the alien captain is especially strong, considering the circumstances of her birth and subsequent incompatibility." She paused, considered keeping her own counsel regarding the next thought but then frowned. _I've never kept any of my observations from him before, why start now? _

"I believe he considered asking her to become his permanent bond-mate, before…" she trailed off delicately.

"Oh, _Mennos_," he swore softly as the implication settled within his badly-distracted mind. Ignoring her soft, wry chuckle upon hearing the priest curse, he asked, switching the subject back to the original topic with growing alarm, "But our people! And the children…if they took the ship–"

"No," his lover interjected firmly, knowing his thoughts were dark. "She was not aboard her vessel when they captured her. The Voyagers still protect them."

Yurros slumped, visibly relieved. However, it seemed to take no time at all for his slackened facial features to tighten with the onset of another sinister thought...

"The failsafe? She took it?"

Acor nodded, crossing her second arms over her slight chest. "Of course she did. You _know_ we could not have used her if she could not agree to our terms; the facilitator's code has not yielded for centuries. Not even when an outsider is called to serve."

He had the good grace to pale a bit, despite his next words. "I understand what that means for her, but Shasta…it has happened before. We will simply choose another facilitator–"

"No, Yurros, you _don't _understand," she cut him off again. "Something's not right. She regained consciousness."

A tremor, pure terror, flooded him. Again, hands nervously twitched over his face, smoothing at now-absent disarray. "I…it's…but then, she…" Miserably, grey eyes searched his leader's form, deliberately skimmed over scarred skin and rested upon conspicuously-missing first arms, the two ugly, slightly protruding nubs left in their wake. "She'll talk. She'll have to. She won't be able to hold out against them forever." Final comprehension dawned. He spun about, his world in tatters about him.

"No." Her eyes clouded over, for a time seeing things no one else did. "No, Yurros. She can't hold out forever. No one could."

He fell, unaware of doing so. "We're lost."

This time, she didn't respond.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

"Tuvok, any sign of the Flyer yet?"

He silently berated himself for asking at all, knowing, as he did, how ridiculous it was. Furthermore, that he waited with baited breath for the response was even worse…

"None, sir." The Vulcan crewman's response was short, clipped.

_Typical Vulcan_, he mused. So how then, the first officer wondered, had the man managed to infuse his answer with such regret…such misery?

Chakotay slanted a speculative glance at the officer in question – nothing. No crease of forehead, no hint of frown.

_Great. Now I'm projecting my own fears onto the Vulcan. _

Voyager's entire bridge crew slumped visibly. Chakotay understood; his shoulders wanted to hunch too – tried, in fact. He didn't let them. Not while he was in _her_ chair, he wouldn't. She never had, and the least he could do while in her place, entrusted with her crew, was to exert the same control she always did.

Thinking of her, Harry, or Neelix right now wasn't an option anyway; it threatened to undermine his much-needed control. Worry, a festering sickness gnawing at his gut, screamed for attention just beneath the level of his conscious thoughts, yet Voyager's first officer couldn't afford to be distracted from his primary duty to the ship's safety.

And Voyager was very much in danger right now. Seemingly at every turn, Jehnz-yin battle cruisers swept the region, barely leaving any room for the Federation ship to hide. Apprehension hung heavily in Voyager's artificially regulated atmosphere. Red alert had been initiated on five occasions in only three times as many hours (prompting Paris to remark wryly that perhaps they should just leave the sirens blaring full-time) and, twice, it was only Tom's exceptional piloting ability that allowed them to avoid engaging enemy troops. Alpha shift, now on its eighteenth straight hour of duty, was beginning to show signs of fatigue, and Chakotay knew he'd soon have no choice but to relieve them, which vaguely troubled him. Not that there was anything specifically lacking with Beta shift, but still…

_Confidence_, he cautioned to himself, as he had thousands of times before now and knew he would a thousand times more…if he lived that long. _The one thing a successful commander never lacks is confidence._

Grimly, he added: _even if it's fake confidence._

_Show them you're not concerned. Let them see you have everything under control. _His dark gaze swept over the command center, noting the tension strung tautly between officers, as though connecting them on some higher plane. The bridge was remarkably silent. Too silent. _It's adding to the strain_, he realized. _They need something to focus on until the next close call with the Jehnz-yin fleet._

"Tom," Chakotay stood purposefully, easily drawing the frazzled attention he desired. "How far are we from the rendezvous coordinates?"

Paris's spine straightened just a fraction in his chair. Though it wasn't the little snap to attention Janeway usually elicited, it was _something_.

"Four hours at present speed." The blond head swiveled, angling behind him to flash the insolent grin he knew had a tendency to irk his commanding officer. "Assuming, of course, we don't have to fight off anymore boarding parties. It took a week to get the smell off deck two alone."

Chakotay shot the pilot a warning glance, ignoring the badly muted snickers from the upper level. "That's enough, Paris." Despite his words, he found he couldn't layer the reprimand with quite the proper level of rebuke. At times like these – and, as Chakotay's tolerance for Paris had always been low, _only_ times like these – the irreverence was bearable, even appreciated. _I have to give it to him, _Chakotay admitted silently to himself._ When the chips are down, Paris always manages to lighten a tense moment._

"Commander," and there was no denying that Tuvok's voice definitely had some kick to it now, "we're receiving a subspace transmission."

He didn't bother to hold himself still but twisted powerfully to face Tactical. "_Source_?"

If the hinted suggestion of surprise in the Vulcan's tone – _damn, I'm doing it again, _Chakotay realized– hadn't revealed the answer, Tuvok's ever-so-slight hesitation did.

Whoever was broadcasting the message, it wasn't the Delta Flyer.

Brown eyes leveled with brown. "It's the Osalik military base."

_Osalik. _Could the away team have wrested control of the alien communications equipment? _I wouldn't put it past her_, he allowed, brightening inwardly in spite of his weathered experience.

"It's the Jehnz-yi."

Chakotay's stomach dropped as Tuvok continued, crushing hope effectively.

"The author has identified himself as First General Xi. He demands to speak with the first officer of Voyager."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: They are not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Notes**: Anything you don't understand will probably be explained later.

Chapter Five

* * *

From the protective cocoon of Voyager's turbolift, Narrus emerged onto the bridge just as all hell broke loose.

Unaware, he strode briskly forward, arms clasped in double rows behind him. His mouth had automatically opened, already spewing forth the usual stream of diplomatic fluff. "My good Commander Chakotay, a word if you don't…mind..."

No one paid him the slightest suggestion of attention. Under any other circumstances, this might have offended Narrus beyond words. Just now, he found he couldn't blame them. Some young woman practically launched right into him, knocking the man back a few paces towards the 'lift, yet he barely registered either the impact or her muttered apology.

"Tuvok, you're sure this isn't being broadcast directly to our location? They haven't found us?"

"That would appear to be a correct assumption, Commander. The message is forwarding to all subspace channels within a twenty light year radius."

"It narrows us down, but I'll take it! Someone get me an Oncaveat senator...preferably Benzas but whomever is available. Tom, hold position, but be ready to jump to warp if this is a trick."

The chorus of "aye, sir" barely registered as crewmen crossed back and forth from station to station, scrambling into some prearranged pattern Narrus could only guess at. No one seemed to notice him, and he almost cut in to announce his presence, saving…whomever…a trip to the ship's guest quarters when the dark commander clipped a final order, "On screen."

Miraculously, there was suddenly no more movement, and every Starfleet officer had materialized in his proper place...but Narrus's limpid eyes were drawn like magnetized steel to Voyager's massive viewscreen.

His worst nightmare loomed before him, quite literally larger than life. It slammed all other rational awareness from his well-filled frame. For an eternity, Narrus hung suspended in a terrible universe where nothing existed but the hideous face of evil incarnate...

And then the world abruptly reformed about him. His senses flooded, overwhelmed with input.

"…Confess I'm surprised, General. I was under the impression the Jehnz-yi didn't communicate with 'lesser races'." Outwardly, Chakotay's affect betrayed nothing of his true emotional condition, neither in face nor tone, lending the impression of his having been carved from stone. Only his mouth moved, barely allowing even words to pass through the tight seal of his lips.

Senator Narrus marveled at the solid human's disinterested air. _The blessed suns, that the man can be so calm, staring into the very maws of evil_! His own heart drummed madly, insanely in his ears; he had to fight to distinguish that there was actual discourse taking place.

"Commander...Chahotay, was it?" The perfectly placed, jagged-toothed smile stretched far too wide.

_Stars that voice_... Narrus's insides froze under a wave of ice water. Almost desperately, his head swiveled wildly to and fro, seeking some reassuring connection among these strange new creatures called ally. Surely he could not be the only one affected...but impossibly, he was!

Narrus gaped in the heavy atmosphere of Voyager, practically sputtering with disbelief. Had his people chosen poorly? After all they'd been told, could the humans have such little grasp of the horrendous nature the Jehnz-yi took such perverse pride in?

Had the Oncaveat leader been more attuned to the federation crew, he might have noticed the subtle differences in their behavior. He'd have seen the slight increase in the furrow of Tuvok's brow as the Vulcan, apparently not susceptible to fear, busied himself with studying the alien's behavior. He might have guessed that much of the tactical officer's formidable mind was occupied, methodically attempting to surmise the motive behind this uncharacteristic attempt at communication. He'd have noticed the Vulcan's hands moving much more swiftly than usual whilst the dark-skinned man covertly inquired after the ship's readiness to fend off another Jehnz-yin attack.

Too, Narrus would have observed a helmsman – normally the picture of cocky arrogance – sitting so straight in his chair as to make himself several inches taller than he'd otherwise appear. He'd have noted Paris's right index finger poised strategically above the controls: controls that would fire up Voyager's engines and take them to warp. Narrus would have known that the jumpy, almost nervous constant motion among the bridge's junior officers was not at all typical of the well-trained unit.

He especially would have stopped to wonder at the absolute stillness, the emotionless tones the commander spoke in. To all who knew the first officer well, those things in themselves betrayed an underlying current of wary expectation coupled with a mind-numbing worry. And none of the man's subordinates doubted for a nanosecond that the bulk of his apprehension was for the safety of one redheaded captain...

The general's vocal chords hissed and rasped from somewhere (presumably) deep within his glistening, animal hide covered chest, creating the illusion of sounds emanating not as much from his mouth as from the crossroads of some other unholy dimension of space.

"Usually, we don't deign to acknowledge lesser races, you're right." The grin – if possible – widened. "But we have been known to make rare exceptions." _Yes, _Narrus thought bitterly, _and each of them has foretold some abominable new terror just before it was unleashed upon us._ "And, Commander Chahotay, I'd say this is a special occasion, wouldn't you?"

Chakotay didn't have to be a quantum mechanics expert to know he absolutely _would not_ like what he was going to hear next. Nor did he bother to correct the general's deliberate mispronunciation of his name. "'Special occasion'?" he repeated, tasting the words and finding them rather less palatable than Neelix's usual culinary fare. His gaze remained steady. Impassive. "I don't suppose this means you're willing to call a cease-fire with the Oncaveat?" he deadpanned.

Was it Narrus's imagination, or had the helmsman snorted at that?

Garan didn't get the joke. Convex black eyes sparked orange and the slitted nostrils flared round. Viciously clawed fingers curled into his oily hands, and he shot forward into the tight zoom of the viewscreen. "'Cease fire'?" he snarled, now the one savoring the words of his adversary. He, also, appeared to reject them as distasteful. "When every last man lies gutted in a pool of his own fluids, first having witnessed the slaughter of his young and having heard the screams as our soldiers make whores of his daughters, his mother, his mate! When every female swells with the offspring of a Jehnz-yin and we are assured that no more will their pathetic race produce issue of its own – _then_ will we call a _'cease fire'_!" he spat gleefully.

There was a beat of stony, sickened silence on the bridge. Then, from the helm, Paris muttered not-quite-under-his-breath, "Well. At least they're willing to discuss terms."

Chakotay's dry mouth opened to admonish him, but the general beat him to the punch. Garan Xi dropped his eyes to the pilot. He snarled. Again, the nostrils flared. "We, unlike your pathetic race, have exceptional hearing, human," he growled menacingly. "When your first officer surrenders your vessel, I will personally make you pay for that insult. You will beg me to kill you before I'm–"

"General," Chakotay cut in neatly, standing to draw the alien's attention once more, "thus far, I fail to see the point of this exchange."

Xi's ominous grin, gone so briefly, spread across his sharp features. It knotted the former Maquis's stomach even more than the general's disgusting outburst had. Watching him, Narrus's knees buckled beneath his considerable weight, and though he wanted nothing more than to scream a warning to the human commander, his throat was inexplicably frozen shut. He could only listen, watch helplessly whilst the Jehnz-yin soldier delivered his deathblow to the so calm-seeming first officer.

The general's hands flicked at something off screen before he stepped back and slightly to the left.

At first, there didn't appear to be anything of particular relevance revealed behind Xi. Barely, they could make out two gleaming silver posts, stretching from ground to ceiling which stood out, several feet from a dark-stained wall. Upon squinting, Chakotay could just see two sets of manacles, one just above floor level and one set roughly six feet above ground. A dark figure hung secured in those chains. A large pool of some dark liquid spread in a stagnant puddle on the floor, but in the gloomy, shadowed area the substance was difficult to identify.

"I have something I'm sure you'll want back." The general turned, wide-spread arms indicating toward the darkness. He took the few steps to reach the posts, strolling leisurely. Strutting. At the edges of the giant viewscreen, four silent figures crept forward to stand on either side of the columns, apparently to await further instruction from their leader. A spotlight sputtered to life directly above the general, more clearly revealing the grey, cloth covered bundle tethered to the steel. And the pool of liquid...was now obviously blood.

Narrus rose on shaky legs, unable to make out the figure's identity with the heavy, torn robe concealing face, hair and core. Upon sighting the hands, the thin white forearms and matching white feet, he realized the figure was human.

And ungrateful as it felt, he thanked the stars it wasn't Oncaveat. But who, then...?

A quick glance to the brown, pointed-earred man in yellow told him the Vulcan knew already which unfortunate human creature hung in that room. The man's movements had paused entirely for the first time. Narrus swallowed nervously as the very first sign of emotion stiffened the large human commander's body: he too, it seemed, recognized the general's victim.

Garan's toothy grin flashed beneath bright white light as the general himself circled behind the concealed human to personally unveil his subject. With a triumphant little flourish (at grisly odds with his demonic features) he snatched away the covering to reveal a human woman. And, heaven help her but she'd been stripped naked, clearly exposing what was undoubtedly a painful collection of purple/black bruises.

As if this hadn't been enough to satisfy the Jehnz-yin, the marks were surrounded by angry, bloodied scores of claw marks. These dotted her otherwise white neck, arms, legs and chest...practically every visible place on her...as though she'd been mauled by an angry mob. Which, as he had no way of knowing, she had been.

As one, the bridge crew of Voyager gasped audibly. Muted curses escaped unchecked before they fell silent, shocked into immobility.

Still, though, he could not quite place her; some of these humans looked so very much alike. Her head drooped forward, obscuring her face, but then his horrified eyes lit upon the solitary strip of blue fabric still banded about her throat. The cloth, smooth at the top, ran in a jagged line along the bottom edge and had obviously been ripped from the remainder of the garment. To Narrus, it looked rather like a necklace...or a collar. Something shiny caught his attention when Xi grabbed a fistful of orange hair to pull the semi-conscious woman's face up to the spotlight.

Finally, recognition dawned upon the Oncaveat leader as Garan made a point of jerking her head to the right (her left), exposing the four tiny circles which declared her captain of Voyager.

And then he understood why the bridge had gone so deathly silent, why all eyes in the room were fused, inseparable from the viewscreen.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer****: **Only the Jehnz-yi and the Oncaveat are mine: a pity. Voyager's crew would have more fun if they were mine. Sadly, they belong to Paramount, who never let them out to play.

**Chapter Rating****: **T, adult themes, etc

**Note****: **Again, anything you aren't following will probably be explained in due time.

Chapter Six

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Not one of the humans appeared to be breathing. They stood frozen, gaping helplessly at the Jehnz-yin's sick sideshow.

Xi obviously relished the undivided attention of his captive audience and took fiendish advantage of it. "You know, this is my first good look at a human female. I thought I'd share it with you, as a gesture of gratitude for sending a facilitator directly into my custody." He paused dramatically then added almost conversationally, "Do you know she walked right in through the front door?" He leered into the screen at Voyager's bridge crew then turned his eyes downward to his victim. "At first, I was admittedly disgusted. All this white, bare skin...no scales, no fur..." The free, pale blue hand snaked around her middle to idly rub over the raw flesh of the barely conscious woman. "But then I began to see her for the superb work of art she can be when my men and I are through with her and she has given us the coordinates."

Captain Janeway, still clearly only half-conscious, suddenly seemed to rally her strength and jerked against the Jehnz-yin's grip, trying to free herself from his hold. Her captor all but ignored her, simply twisted his fingers deeper into the tangled fistful of hair. He yanked sharply, cruelly. She stilled again, and he continued onward with his little speech as though nothing at all had just occurred between them.

"You should be proud. Your captain will have the honor of leading me to the last stronghold of the Oncaveat Race. _She _will be the one to open the threshold for my army." The demonic black eyes tinted a dreamy, opaque glaze as General Xi relished in his final victory, in his power. The hand continued to smooth back and forth, the flat of his palm apparently roaming unnoticed by its owner. Seconds later, he straightened, recovering. Grinning. "Now, though, she's like a blank canvas. Waiting to be marked. Branded. I wonder…how many times she will make me mark her before she breaks?"

She tried again to escape his hold. Again, she was supremely unsuccessful. Narrus wondered whether she was even aware of who was holding her against her will. She had yet to speak.

"And _then_," he pulled her head back to rest upon his chest, nuzzling her neck with a soft growl, "I discovered her wonderful scent. Clean. She smells of purity, Commander. Chastity. Innocence, despite her age," he added slyly. "It's all very enticing."

The captain's eyes were unfocused. She groaned softly when Garan brought a single talon to rest against the cheek he'd been nuzzling and pressed inward. He firmly pierced the skin then raked straight down, over her jaw, her throat to the collar she still wore. A thin line of white presented briefly, then instantly was obscured by the blossoming scarlet of blood. "Such paper-thin flesh," he sneered.

The captain hissed involuntarily. But it was not until Xi's long, purple-veined tongue darted out past carnivorous teeth to make contact with the fresh wound, sliding from neck upward to lap up newly spilled blood that she cried out.

A furious and thicker red line spread across the thin cut on the woman's face and throat: his saliva had burned her.

The general chuckled, seeming to have forgotten his audience entirely, so engrossed was he in studying his victim's simultaneously pained and disgusted face. He stepped out from behind her, ducked under her arm to stand at her side. She glared mutely at the opposite wall, still obviously trying to gain her bearings.

It was then that Narrus, his world in a hopeless shambles about his feet, risked a glance at the commander. He observed, from his fortified view near the turbolift, a muscle in the human's cheek twitching furiously. Still, the humans stood rooted in their spots, paralyzed with horror. He, personally, was bearing witness to the final demise of his people. A deep, bitter resentment overwhelmed his despair.

He did not blame _them_. No, this was _her_ fault.

_Why did she not ingest the safeguard? Now the foolish woman has condemned us, condemned herself! Perhaps just as horrible, she's now forcing her own people to watch her suffer inconceivable tortures. _

And after all she'd just done, after everything she was going to destroy…

Still, he couldn't bear to watch anymore. Blindly, for the tears he could not remember shedding clouded his vision, Senator Narrus turned about and fled the bridge for the turbolift, abandoning the humans to their own devices.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

When the Starfleet security officer arrived at the door to the luxurious guest quarters, Benzas stood waiting. She smiled a polite apology as she gestured him outside and into the hall.

"I'm sorry, Senator, but Commander Chakotay would like a word with you. It's urgent." The dark young woman was the picture of professionalism and, despite the circumstances, the Oncaveat first senator found it within himself to be amused. The woman was so short next to him! For Stars' sake he practically dwarfed her. What did the humans really expect her to do if he had a tendency toward violence? _Why, a single swipe with my second hand and she'd go flying clear across the hall_...

He contained his amusement to the mere twitching of his pursed lips and nodded his assent. Truth be told, he'd needed no invitation to leave his quarters. Once he'd made his contacts through the link, his only priority had become to speak with the first officer of Voyager. It was time.

As they entered the turbolift, he felt the stirrings of something in the back of his mind…and stumbled.

The woman, who'd introduced herself as Ensign Jenkins, reached out a hand to steady him as he straightened himself with some difficulty. Flushed, the nearly seven-foot tall alien nodded absently in thanks, but his mind was no longer on the ship. It was again with his bond-mate. She was coming to once more. And she was in pain. Therefore, _he_ was in pain.

Benzas barely heard the ensign order the elevator (an elevator to him – that was what he privately called it and would continue calling it in his own mind, human terminology be damned) to the command center of the ship. His head ached so sharply he wanted to be sick.

He was not. He would be strong for her, as she was even now making the greatest of sacrifices. For him, for a stranger she had met only weeks before…for his people…

_Benzas_, she called to him, sounding lost. It was distinctly unlike the woman he'd come to know and admire. For her to be so unfocused was uncharacteristic, and he inwardly wept for whatever pain she'd suffered to affect her so. _Where are you? I can't hear you._

Benzas's pupils dilated, and he gathered all of his remaining mental energy to establish the full link. As she was not Oncaveat, making the connection required extra energy from him to initiate. That she had managed to reach out to him on her own – on two occasions now – attested to the strength of their ever-growing bond.

Not for the first time, he admired her strength. It took so many forms…

Not for the first time, he was sorry for what he was doing to her…

_Kathryn, _he managed with supreme effort. It was so very hard to keep uncertainty – the _fear – _from his thoughts. But he managed, knowing it was not what she needed. _I'm here. I'll stay as long as I can. I'm here._

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

Chakotay stared in absolute, numbed disbelief at the battered image on Voyager's viewscreen. He watched, a buzzing in his ears drowning out the insidious innuendo of the enemy general as the alien callously manhandled the woman entirely at his malevolent mercy.

His chest and forehead felt strangely hot, as though he was on fire. Yet his hands, his feet were blocks of ice. _This is a trick_, he reasoned desperately. _This is a trick, and Kathryn's fine. She's fine, she's just hiding from Xi's ships and that's why they weren't at the rendezvous site – that woman is __**not**__ Kathryn Janeway._

But then his dark eyes found hers. Despite the wide confusion of them and the swelling of one side of her face, they were so familiar, so exactly identical to the blue eyes he'd looked into nearly every day for five years… And he knew it was no trick.

Xi had the shuttle. He had Neelix, Harry – _Spirits, who I insisted go with her_ – and Kathryn. The brutal bastards _had_ them. Had _her_. Garan Xi held what was virtually Chakotay's entire world in the palms of his clawed hands, and there was positively nothing Chakotay could do about it.

The buzzing sensation intensified. Soon, it was a full-blown roar…

_Have to snap out of it. Have to say something, damn it, have to make him let her go! Have to stop this_… His dry mouth, his brain betrayed him. They refused cooperation. He stared, numb and yet at the same time his eyes devoured her, drinking in the sight of her.

What he could see of her condition wrenched at his insides. They'd already roughed her up badly. That much was apparent from the dark, angry bruises, the ugly scratches. From the somewhat glassy look she gave the viewscreen.

_Great Spirits, what have they done to her? What can they possibly have done to make her so disoriented?_ His mind conjured up hundreds of scenarios, each more ominous than the last. It didn't help that some of the deep scratches seemed…deliberately placed…in areas that could only have been meant to humiliate her.

Slowly, so slowly it seemed to take an eternity, Chakotay's mind began to function again. Little details like the one he'd just noted began punching through the solid wall of shock automatically thrown up when he'd first sighted Kathryn in Xi's custody.

A muscle began to work in his jaw. A familiar, potent sensation flooded his veins. A sensation, a feeling he'd thought never to experience the likes of again upon joining Voyager. Upon joining her.

Rage. Pure, raw, untempered _rage_. If any harm came to her…

_But it will. It already has_.

Chakotay was barely aware of Garan Xi speaking, his focus entirely on the nightmare Kathryn now faced. What they'd already done was more than enough to awaken his long-sleeping ire.

He knew, too, that any price Xi demanded in return for the captain's life would be far too high to pay. And no bargain made with the Jehnz-yin military had ever been held up in good faith. Nothing Chakotay could say or do would persuade the general to release Kathryn Janeway; they would kill her before ever letting her go.

But they wouldn't be satisfied to simply beat her, kill her. They wanted to destroy her, to break her. Hadn't he already seen first hand the unimaginable cruelty the Jehnz-yi were capable of?

_No, _he amended furiously, _not just are __**capable**__ of inflicting – they enjoy harming other creatures. We saw that on our own…the disgusting things they take pleasure in doing. And she was so horrified, she couldn't not help the Oncaveat escape the Jehnz-yi. __**We**__ couldn't: I didn't even object to her plunging Voyager into the middle of this war. And now they have her…_

He couldn't help the self-hatred threatening to overwhelm him – as he watched the woman he'd sworn to protect with his life (and yet hadn't) – struggle weakly to avoid the general's grip. He realized fully that she was conscious, and his stomach contracted…

_Spirits alive, Kathryn, how did this happen? Why didn't you take the neural inhibitor? Gods, you saw what they do, you __**knew**__. Why didn't you take it??_

The Jehnz-yi were never supposed to get their hands on a facilitator they could manipulate, torture for information. Kathryn Janeway was supposed to be lying in an unresponsive coma right now, somewhere so deep within her mind that the enemy could not touch her.

It had been his only solace, the only reason he'd ever agreed to allow her to become a facilitator in the first place. He almost snorted. One did not strictly "allow" Kathryn Janeway to do anything. One either agreed with her decisions and said so or did the opposite, but it generally had no bearing on what she ultimately decided to do either way.

But she hadn't done it, she hadn't taken the failsafe and now…

They'd stripped her, exposed her and now they had her staked out helplessly, like some trophy on display. That was all this little broadcast of Xi's was about. They wanted to degrade her, degrade him, degrade the entire crew of Voyager. Why? For daring to intervene and help the Oncaveat avoid calculated genocide at the hands of the Jehnz-yi military.

They wanted to humiliate her in front of her crew…

…in front of her crew.

That one realization struck him like a jolt of super-heated plasma, and Chakotay snapped back to life – finally. He refused to acknowledge the general's sticky tongue lashing out to make contact with Kathryn's skin, forced himself not to think about the horrors such an action potentially foretold for his best friend.

He knew what he had to do. In the deadliest, hardest tone of his life, he snapped out his next order, shocking his frozen bridge crew into motion.

"Turn it _off_, Tuvok. Now!"

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: The Voyager characters are not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: I'm going to go with T. There's mild torture in here. As mild as torture can be, I suppose.

**Note**: Again, if you'll only bear with me, you'll understand as the story continues…

Chapter Seven

* * *

**Part****I**

* * *

What Benzas found upon entering the conference room did not surprise him: Voyager's first officer, looking vaguely ill at ease in his captain's chair. The man seemed transfixed by something on a small screen along the right wall…but even as Benzas's violet eyes moved to follow the line of the commander's gaze, the screen abruptly went dark.

For a moment, the senator remained unsure whether the commander had even noticed his arrival. But then – that was absurd. The young woman in the yellow uniform – Ensign Jenkins – had received her commanding officer's verbal permission to enter.

Benzas hovered awkwardly in the doorway, filling much of the open space with his tall form.

Across the long room, Chakotay kept still only by keeping his fists tightly clenched beneath the table. It had taken every last micron of self-control to switch off the transmission. "Thank you, Ensign," he acknowledged Jenkins politely, if stiffly. "If you'll wait outside, I'll let you know when we're through here."

Ensign Natalie Jenkins was thrilled to be acknowledged by Commander Chakotay himself. She could count – on one hand – the number of occasions she'd been addressed by a senior officer of Voyager- excluding Commander Tuvok, of course. And, as her direct supervisor, he didn't count as far as she was concerned. Though she knew the command team made it a point to greet even the lowliest of crewmen, she usually had the night shift, so her contact with the duo had been automatically limited. "Aye, sir," she responded, barely containing her enthusiasm while moving to take up her post just outside of the entrance.

The commander allowed himself a few sorely needed seconds to bring his emotions under the tight rein of long-practiced control.

He didn't like the man. Mostly, if he was honest with himself, he distrusted Benzas's seeming influence over the captain. Since she'd returned from her three-day expedition with the Oncaveat leader, Voyager's new ally, Chakotay had felt…oddly excluded from her confidence. Too often, he'd asked the computer for her location, only to be informed that she was with Benzas. And, as she hadn't exactly been forthcoming about the nature of this new…friendship…he hadn't felt it was his place to ask her about it. Instead, he'd been left to wonder at the sudden closeness between the two.

Certainly, after all of their harrowing first contacts in the Delta Quadrant, she had become much less trusting…hadn't she? How many times had seemingly friendly new species misled them before? Yet she trusted this man implicitly. _Does this have something to do with the bond she mentioned_? Chakotay wondered. She hadn't said much about the nature of the "link" or whatever it was, but he had gotten the impression that the experience had been somewhat akin to a mind-meld. He also got the feeling she had deliberately neglected to elaborate on the subject.

True, her report had not been lacking in detail…at least…not specifically. Nothing he could pinpoint, anyway. Janeway and Tuvok had attended the customary Oncaveat gathering, the summit of senators – the Riftga or whatever the softly furred aliens called it. They'd returned in excellent health, according to the doctor. Kathryn had been chosen to facilitate the opening of the threshold into Unani space, the Oncaveats' one remaining safe haven. She would be the first outsider to facilitate in nearly a century, but it had recently become apparent to Benzas, to the Senate Circle, that their movements were becoming more and more restricted. The Jehnz-yin army seemed to be stepping up in their attacks, and the Oncaveat had lost their last three facilitators to Jehnz-yin attacks; the Oncaveats' weapons capability was no match for their enemy. All present had, upon hearing the tale of Kathryn's rescue of the Oncaveat transport vessel from a Jehnz-yin battle cruiser, agreed that Janeway was the best – and safest – choice. Voyager would provide passage for as many Oncaveat as possible, having taken the circle of senators and their most vulnerable followers (mostly children and elderly aliens) to the required coordinates. Only Kathryn would know the exact location, a fact which made it all the more imperative that she be recovered alive. Otherwise, the Oncaveat would have to return to the summit and choose a new facilitator – and each light-year traveled through Jehnz-yin space was a death-gamble for them. Now, for Voyager, too.

Yes, both officers' reports had been thorough. Complete. Still, he hadn't been able to shake the sensation that something else had been determined at the Riftga – something neither Kathryn nor Tuvok had wanted to share with him.

It was imperative, perhaps more so now than ever, that Chakotay not permit his personal feelings to influence either his behavior or his judgment regarding the Oncaveat first senator. _Personal feelings, hell_, his inner-self mocked, _you're looking for someone else to blame for what is ultimately your OWN failure to protect the members of the away team. _

"Senator," Chakotay's vocal chords felt dry, scratchy with the strain of bone-chilling fear and helpless rage, "if you would take a seat, please, there's a matter of great urgency to discuss."

Benzas Cori nodded, his somber eyes fixing upon the tormented human with no little sympathy. His expression was one of deep remorse. "I understand, Commander. I take it you are aware of Kathryn's situation by now?"

Chakotay's stomach flip-flopped wildly. Control, long-practiced or otherwise, slipped from his tenuous grasp, deserting him. His shocked jaw fell open. "By now?" he repeated, unconsciously copying his own actions from the recent discussion with the Jehnz-yin general. "You know already? How could you–" _Is that really important? Does it matter? Every single second you delay right now is one more second they have her. One more violation they have the time to inflict upon her. _"Never mind, it doesn't matter," he cut himself off shortly. "What matters is that we get them back. The Jehnz-yi have the Delta Flyer and, with it, the members of the away team. I'm sure you'll agree–"

"I'm sorry, Commander, but that is incorrect. They have only Kathryn. Your shuttle, along with the young ensign and the Talaxian, is on its way to the rendezvous coordinates as we speak."

For the second time in fewer minutes, Chakotay's heart skipped a beat. Tersely, he clipped, "I don't know what brings you to that particular conclusion, but I can promise you that neither Mister Neelix nor Ensign Kim would ever consider leaving–"

"Not willingly, no." The soft-spoken, funeral-hushed tones of Benzas's words had begun to grate on Chakotay's well-worn nerves as the man interrupted him yet again. "But your Neelix was injured, and Kathryn wanted him returned to Voyager for treatment without argument. She took matters out of their hands and programmed the shuttle for automatic piloting."

It had the unmistakable ring of something she would do. Too, the amber-coated Oncaveat's voice rang with such miserable sincerity…

Attempting to gauge the truth of Cori's words, the first officer stared deeply into the alien's soulful black pupils, searching for any sign of deception. There was none.

Chakotay suddenly had an uneasy feeling that he was about to receive the answers to all of the nagging questions he'd had concerning Benzas's relationship with Kathryn Janeway.

And he didn't think that he was going to like those answers one bit.

"Explain," he demanded simply. "Quickly. She's running out of time."

* * *

Part II

* * *

"Damn it!" Harry Kim swore, slamming the medical tricorder shut against the useless (to him, anyway) helm console. Unfortunately, as he had not been watching what he was doing, his little finger caught in the edge and was thoroughly pinched. "_Damn it_!"

The instrument clattered to the Delta Flyer's carpeted deck with soft, muted thuds as Harry swung his smarting right hand back and forth in the cool air of the shuttle.

A tormented groan, shuddering and labored, made the ensign start somewhat guiltily. _Did I just wake him_? he wondered warily, darting a glance at the swathed and sweaty bundle on the floor.

The roar, thankfully, was not enough to awaken his comatose patient. _If I don't get him to Voyager soon, the doctor won't be enough to wake him. He'll be dead._

Sitting there, helplessly taking scan after scan, watching the morbidly rapid progression of internal injuries worsening in his friend was agonizing: gut-wrenching. Harry couldn't remember a time he had felt such anguish. The tears flowed from his dark eyes without even catching his attention anymore.

Watching a friend die in combat – fighting alongside him – was one thing. Seeing him slowly bleed out internally while his organs strained and fought to keep up with his body's most basic life-giving functions…while being able to do nothing to stop the process…

It was hell. Absolute, complete hell.

This was worse than the Hirogen takeover; here, there wasn't even an EMH to tend to Neelix's horrendous wounds. He only got to observe the gradual decline of…

_Stop it, Kim. Neelix is going to make it, he's tougher than he looks. Which_, he snorted darkly_, isn't exactly a ringing endorsement of his odds, is it?_

_Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why did she have to do this? Why'd she have to go sacrificing herself? If she were here, she could probably address these injuries better than I can._

The responsibility would not rest entirely with him. At the very least, he wouldn't be solely to blame.

It _had_ been a sacrifice. That the captain had taken the time to program in the shuttle's launching sequence and set auto-navigation for the rendezvous site betrayed her intentions. At some point during this ill-fated venture – Harry wasn't sure when, exactly – but at some point, she had made the conscious decision not to make an effort to escape the Jehnz-yi.

She could have done it. She'd made the choice to use precious time – time Neelix hadn't really had – repairing the shuttle's engines. Additionally, who knew how long it had taken to rig the localizer she'd used to send Neelix's pattern through the prison's dampening field? He still wanted to know how she'd managed that. He'd take the time to study the modified communicator later, when they reached the rendezvous coordinates.

_Which reminds me…_ They had to be close. With one last, heart-breaking look at his dying friend, Harry Kim turned resolutely to the communications console. There was nothing more he could do for Neelix. Only time would tell if the little he'd managed would be enough.

He had a sinking suspicion it wouldn't be. Hands shaking, he began to type.

* * *

Part III

* * *

Kathryn struggled to pull her muddled thoughts together. It was incredibly difficult. Her head hurt, ached beyond belief. She tried to move but found for some reason she could not. Neither arms nor legs would cooperate…was she paralyzed? Had she somehow fallen and injured her back?

No. Decidedly no – she was not paralyzed. If she was, there wouldn't be such a blunt ache along her back muscles each time she inhaled breath. Again she pulled at both arms and legs…to no avail. And, finally, it hit her; she was tied to something.

The captain forced open her eyes and almost vomited with the sudden wave of vertigo that swept over her. Her head was pulled up against her will, and she became aware of a hauntingly familiar voice near her right ear. The specific words, however, continued to elude her…quite possibly due to an incessant ringing resounding in her ears.

Janeway, the grip on her hair sending sharp new pain through the pounding inside of her skull, instinctively tried to pull forward to free herself. A fierce yank and she gave up quickly. She frankly hadn't the strength to put in more effort.

At once a sort of awareness focused her mind enough for her to realize where she was and just whose hand was taking such liberties with her bare skin…

_So they stripped me after all_, she accepted grimly. To her credit, Kathryn was only vaguely mortified to be so exposed before the general and his minions, for with her memory came also the return of her identity. Her very next concern was for her ship. Immediately, her mind reached out to Benzas Cori to inquire after Voyager's safety, but a sudden sharp pain caused her to abort the attempt just as swiftly.

Before she could do much more than grimace, Xi's hot, wet tongue made contact with her neck, grazing an insistent trail up to the side of her face. To her absolute shock, it burned like hell. She cried out – half disgust, half pain. And could cheerfully have kicked herself for giving Xi the satisfaction.

At the general's smug laughter, Kathryn Janeway opened her sore mouth to tell the Jehnz-yin exactly where to shove his amusement when, again, she was derailed from her intended action by a new distraction.

For some reason, Commander Chakotay's voice was the first to cut through the buzzing in her ears.

Quite clearly, she heard his oh-so-steady inflection snap: "Turn it _off_, Tuvok. _Now!_"

Stunned, Janeway's head fell forward, abruptly released from Xi's hold. Swallowing back the second wave of nausea at the sudden motion, her stomach leaped up into her parched throat. "Chakotay," she rasped. _What the __**hell**__ is he doing here?_ Fear had her heart pounding rapidly within her chest.

Xi's ugly features – somewhat softened by the double vision she was experiencing – loomed before her. He stood mere centimeters from her. "Aw," he mocked, "he cut the transmission. Shame. I was enjoying that. Guess he didn't like the show."

_Transmission. Thank God. _Sheer relief made her brave. "You still can't find them, can you?" she taunted in return, ignoring the multitude of her injuries (which protested each word). Even the customary Janeway smirk hurt her bruised (and now burned) face. Inwardly, though, she'd already switched into command mode. She would use whatever time she had left to help Voyager complete its mission, any small way possible. She stared the alien down, assessing him. _He's proud_ – _so arrogant. Maybe I can taunt him into making a few mistakes. It's worth a shot. _"You still have your entire fleet tied up with searching for my small ship, don't you? Not bad for a 'lesser species', wouldn't you agree?"

Garan Xi's cold smile was all the warning she was afforded before a harsh backhand swung across the left side of her jaw, snapping her head back. Her tooth caught the inside of her bottom lip with impact, and Kathryn tasted blood.

"Still cocky, aren't you, Janeway?" he hissed low. "Not for very much longer, I promise you."

Jaw smarting, she forced her head to swivel back to face him. The gargoyle-like features were twisted with hatred. Swiftly, the same hand reached down and pulled something from the leather belt of his uniform. The captain caught a brief flash of metal glinting beneath the glaring spotlight before another hand lashed out to squeeze her chin, the force of his grip nearly fusing skin with bone. Xi waved a sickeningly curved blade, tinged with some yellow-green substance, directly in front of her eyes.

"Now then, this will be simple." He pressed it to her ribcage, smiled at her sharp intake of breath. "That's right. If you'll remember from my session with Mister Neelix, that's acid. Stings, no?"

Kathryn bit her already bloody lower lip. "Stings" wasn't strictly the word she thought she'd use. _More like "sears", _she mused. She held her tongue, waiting for him to continue. _Benzas_, she thought, eyes watering and further blurring her vision. _Now would be a good time to distract me. How much time do I have left?_

Xi laid out his terms in simple language, never removing the damaging knife from her side. "I will ask you a question. If you fail to respond, or if your response fails to satisfy me, I will demonstrate my displeasure for you. Clear enough, Janeway?" The clawed fist released her chin, trailed lightly down over her chest and rested there…

_I'm here, Kathryn_, came the blessed response from her bond-mate. Despite the pain she experienced, a sudden infusion of strength – of resolve – renewed her. A sort of calm reassurance soothed her doubts, and Kathryn thought that perhaps no one save for Chakotay could have had such a balming effect on her so instantly. _I'm here. I'll stay with you as long as I can. _

Perhaps if the general hadn't been so obvious in his glee, Kathryn might have acknowledged his question. As it was, though she knew full well it was going to cost her, the captain deliberately turned her head away from him to face the wall.

"All right, then. I can see I'm going to have to make this even clearer."

Her last thought was that he sounded positively delighted before the slashing, burning sensation of the blade biting deep into her flesh, tearing easily past skin into muscle, overwhelmed her.

She didn't even hear herself scream.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: They're not mine, but they should be.

**Chapter Rating**: T, maybe. Mention of graphic violence.

Chapter Eight

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Morale had never been so low among Voyager's crew, not even on the day Maj Cullah had abandoned them all on that backwards planet with nothing but the shirts on their backs…

The Delta Flyer was back… and the captain wasn't on it. It was common knowledge by now, hours after the already-infamous transmission from the Jehnz-yin general, that the captain was in enemy hands and being tortured for information. With the return of Voyager's most prized shuttle, the rumor mill was again abuzz with grisly news. Neelix, it seemed, had arrived in horrendous condition. His broken and nearly lifeless body had been transported to Sickbay before the shuttle had even docked, and Tom Paris joined the EMH in Sickbay less than a few seconds later. That the ensign was relieved from the helm at all was a testament to the Talaxian's critical condition. Sickbay itself was closed to all visitors, save for strict medical emergencies. Harry Kim had been deemed fit enough for duty, despite his own obvious wounds, not the least of which was a pronounced limp and a nasty, barely crusted-over slash wound framing the top of his left eye. Kim was summoned immediately to the conference room, where Voyager's remaining (and frustratingly closed-lipped) senior officers were having the meeting that any excluded officer would have given an appendage to listen in on.

Speculation about that meeting was rife throughout the lower decks of Voyager. The senior staff _had _to be formulating a plan to rescue the captain…didn't they? There was no _way_ Voyager was going to let one of their own endure the unspeakable atrocities which the Jehnz-yin delighted in committing upon their prisoners…were they? Not when the initial away team who'd first rescued Benzas's people had seen, with their own eyes, the particularly vicious things that had already been done to the Oncaveat men, women, and children.

No one aboard the Starfleet vessel cared to imagine their deeply beloved, venerable Captain Janeway subjected to such treatment. Few were able to do so at all. And Chakotay, of all people, would never let the captain die, not that way – not without fighting to the death first, right?

No one could say for certain. The commander, it seemed, was at the end of his rope. News trickled down from the bridge that Voyager's first officer had exploded in a fit of rage which no one, save for the former Maquis, had ever seen or heard the likes of before – certainly not from the generally peaceful Commander Chakotay.

Upon overhearing the details, Andrews's dubious expression prompted Chell – who'd officially taken over Neelix's duties in the mess hall (and to somewhat better results) – to snort auspiciously.

Instinctively wary, the dark human's eyebrows rose. Andrews was a simple man, and he liked to talk as much as the next guy but Chell…he shuddered inwardly. Chell could talk the spots off of a leopard, as his grandfather used to say.

"Something funny, Chell?" He couldn't resist, it seemed. The Starfleet security officer was genuinely curious to know what even the effervescent Bolian could find amusing about the commander of Voyager losing his temper and becoming physically violent with an alien dignitary.

Whipping some strange mixture of batter that actually, wonder of wonders, gave off a pleasant aroma, Chell snorted once more for good measure before finally responding, "Please. You Starfleet fellows have been positively spoiled. You don't get to be the head of a Maquis cell by being a benign, timid creature, you know. He's toned it down considerably for the benefit of the Starfleet crew. Chakotay's temper was legendary in the Maquis. No one back then ever dared question him, or even look at him the wrong way, for fear of ending up on the wrong side of that nasty right-hook of his. Back on the Liberty, he broke more noses than B'Elanna ever did."

Andrews, still not convinced, merely shrugged and, shoveling the last heaping spoonful of omelet into his mouth, stood to recycle his now-empty tray. "Maybe," he allowed, through a mouthful of Tarkadian egg-white, "but somehow, I think you're exaggerating."

Chell's laughter rang after him, spilling out into the hall to greet Jenny Delaney, who scowled reproachfully at the blue-skinned male in Neelix's place behind the counter.

"All right, Andrews, have it your way. Enjoy your shift on the bridge…but don't say I didn't warn you!"

Andrews merely shook his head, disappearing behind the closing doors of the mess hall. Despite Chell's renowned talent for embellishment, the ensign somehow had the sensation that it would be in his best interests to stay out of Chakotay's way today, after all…if he could help it.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

The man in question was indeed ready to break someone's nose. Commander Chakotay sat quietly in the conference room. He kept silent through the entrance of a battered and exhausted Harry Kim. He did not look at any of the other assembled officers, nor did he dare glance in the direction of the Oncaveat first senator, for fear of being moved to sudden violence again.

It was Benzas's fault, almost entirely, that Kathryn Janeway was suffering at the hands of the brutal Jehnz-yin general. It had been his idea, at least partially, to have the captain of Voyager _deliberately_ head for enemy territory, in order to confirm suspicions about a possible turncoat within the Oncaveat Senate…

_No_, he had to forcefully remind himself every so often_, it wasn't Benzas's idea to use her; she volunteered. She actually fu–_ He cut himself off abruptly, forcing his focus back where it belonged.

Harry's report had been nearly the only thing he'd been able to sit through, as it offered not only crucial details about the layout, troop deployment, and tactical weaknesses of the enemy base, but also presented Voyager's first officer with the added bonus of an opportunity to glare the young man down. Again, it wasn't strictly the Asian's fault that Janeway was still in Xi's hands, but it didn't help that Kim had, however reluctantly, abandoned her all the same. In Chakotay's less-than-reasonable state of mind right now, he saw little difference between the two.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught B'Elanna frowning at him, to which he merely angled his clenched jaw and glared her down, too.

She, however, was having none of it. Too used to his legendary temper to be cowed by it, the half-Klingon's pointed and penetrating returned stare was the only thing to knock him back into a temporary sense of reality. He turned and forced himself to listen to Benzas's less-than-detailed report of a small, remaining group of grounded senators who had taken it upon themselves to mount a rescue plan for the human risking her life to save the Oncaveat race.

There was an independent plan to rescue Kathryn Janeway, supposedly underway even as the senior officers of Voyager met to determine the validity of that plan.

Chakotay had already heard enough; Voyager would send its own rescue team as well. Of that, there could be no question. There was little hope that the small band of allies was going to be able to penetrate that fortress and liberate the captain; they had neither the skill nor the technology.

Even in his seated position at the opposite end of the conference table, Benzas Cori towered over them all. He easily drew the focus and attention of all present, and his somber demeanor radiated misery. Every so often, he winced as though he'd been struck, but only Chakotay and perhaps Tuvok knew the reason for the strong physical reactions to seemingly nothing at all.

He jerked in actual physical sympathy to each blow that Kathryn Janeway, several light years away, received at Garan Xi's clawed hands. The commander actually experienced a perverse surge of satisfaction at the knowledge that the alien who'd enabled Kathryn's present position as the newest plaything of a vicious, bloodthirsty alien, was on some level feeling every blow, every horrid assault upon her person…

He couldn't think about it. Not until they had her back – and they _would_ get her back. He refused to contemplate any scenario in which the captain wasn't returned to Voyager alive. Intact, too…because if anyone was going to kill Kathryn Janeway, it was going to be Chakotay himself.

He couldn't go. He knew it, just as he knew she'd never want him to leave Voyager – not while he was in charge. His duty now was to the ship, and not to Kathryn Janeway. He hated it. As Benzas's report drew to a close, Chakotay practically shot up from his chair; it had been torture in itself to have to sit still, knowing that with each moment of inactivity, Kathryn was that much closer to death – or worse.

"Thank you, Senator," he managed coolly, though he did not so much as glance at the man he addressed. "We'll update you once a decision has been made." Tapping his commbadge, he called to the senator's escort, Ensign Jenkins, who ushered the alien dignitary from the room.

Once Benzas had departed, the commander returned to the remaining four people present. They all stared back at him, their expressions ranging from baleful to inscrutable as they awaited his orders.

Breathing evenly was an effort requiring constant concentration. Though outwardly calm, his insides pitched and frothed in a stormy sea of black, dangerous waters. Peace was a thing of the past; had he really ever known such a thing? To the resurrected darkness that was his consciousness, the past five years now seemed a distant dream.

He could still think clearly. All those years in the Maquis, of living constantly on Death's watch list while operating on little more than instinct, had left him with that much.

"Right – I know there isn't a single person in this room who wouldn't risk his life to be able to help the captain, but this isn't the time for an all out debate. After careful consideration, I've decided that we can't allow the captain's safety to rest solely on the Oncaveat's intended rescue attempt; it has very little chance of success, given their technological inferiority to the Jehnz-yi. The moment the repairs to the Delta Flyer have been completed, Tuvok is going to lead a three man team from Voyager. As the only one who's been inside that compound, Harry will be an invaluable guide. And once the doctor's stabilized Neelix, he'll join the away team as the final member; there's no telling what kind of condition she'll be in by the time you get there. Harry, get down to Shuttlebay Two and see what you can do to assist repairs. I want to be notified the instant the Delta Flyer is ready for launch. Seven, you'll continue to work with B'Elanna to find a way to modify those enhancements we made to the Delta Flyer, so that we can use them to better conceal Voyager from Jehnz-yin sensors. Keep me apprised of your progress. Understood?" When no one argued, he nodded. "Good. You're all dismissed."

Satisfied, he turned, listening to the sound of rustling clothing and shuffling footsteps as Harry, B'Elanna, Seven, and Tuvok left the room. He intended to see to the details of the rescue operation, and most certainly to tune back in to the hideous transmission still being broadcast from Osalik…_Spirits, Kathryn, just hold on…_but he was halted by a calm voice.

"A moment, Commander?"

Chakotay froze, twisting back to face the conference table. "What is it, Tuvok?" _No wonder B'Elanna didn't linger to try and offer her support, as I was sure she would. _

The Vulcan's face was impossible to read, of course. "I agree with your assessment regarding the likelihood of the Oncaveat failure to liberate the captain from Osalik's military base. We must indeed send a team from Voyager."

The former Maquis waited, knowing Tuvok wasn't finished. He merely nodded for the tactical officer to continue, his patience barely holding out through the desperation to make sure Kathryn Janeway was still alive.

"However, though it was admirably logical, I must disagree with your decision to appoint me to lead the away mission."

Chakotay's eyes darkened ever so slightly, a dangerous warning, and he turned to fully face the Vulcan. "Oh? And just who do you think would be better suited for the job?" So help him, he didn't need this right now…it was all he could do to keep from jumping in a shuttle, right now, and going after her alone.

"I believe, Commander, that due to the unusual circumstances of our present situation, _you_ would be the ideal candidate to lead the team."

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: They're not mine, but they should be. No suing please :)

**Chapter Rating**: T plus? Mention of graphic violence. Actually that's a lie: I think there's _actual_ graphic violence in here. Mostly though, I try to be as vague as it is within my nature to be.

Chapter Nine

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

"Give me those coordinates, Captain."

Silence was the only resistance she offered.

She was beyond verbal responses by now; the extra energy couldn't be wasted on forcing the refusal through her broken jaw, much less past her cracked, blood smeared lips. Bad enough that she couldn't suppress the automatic groans, or her screams of agony…

One such scream was ripped from her now: almost pure humiliation this time, though the pain was, of course, present. The laughter no longer burned her; she was past acknowledging all but the most critical communications imparted to her by the Jehnz-yin soldiers.

It had become routine. Funny, she'd never thought to see the day when hearing the sound of her own voice screaming was part of normal operating procedure.

Kathryn was in a daze. For an eternity, she hadn't even any idea how long she'd hung from those posts. But it had to be getting close to the end by now; she wasn't sure how much more she could physically take before she either passed out or died from the blood loss…

It couldn't be much.

Xi wasn't letting up. In fact, he seemed determined to continue, even through the travesty of a medical intervention he'd reluctantly ordered after his last round of interrogation/ torture, when he'd inadvertently slashed right through the major artery at the joint of her hip and right thigh.

He'd ordered his men to press onward with their efforts, even as the medical officer staunched the blood flow from the critical wound. Delighted, the Jehnz-yin guards continued with their constant assault, simply stepping around the working man who kneeled to address her injury. "Humiliate Janeway" – Xi's new favorite game – continued to be a widely popular sport.

The "game" involved comments from and contact with four of his obnoxious subordinates. It had taken all of her frazzled focus to ignore the Jehnz-yi and their taunting, crude words. It took every ounce of Tuvok's careful instruction to find that white light she'd asked him to help her seek all those years ago…

It took more than that to ignore the four sets of hands and claws, fangs and tongues as they tore into her flesh with wild abandon. That took Benzas's help, but he had warned her after the last time they'd lost the precious, fortifying link: he was weakening. Soon, his thoughts, the refuge he offered her from torment, would be gone for good.

He told her how much time had passed, and she'd marveled at that. Five hours…that was how long she had been hanging there, tethered to steel and leather. Five hours. It seemed to Janeway that, surely, she must have heard him say "years" and not "hours".

She hated that Benzas used his waning strength to ensure that the link was often strong enough for him to see through her eyes…she wanted no one to witness cruelty like this, and she certainly didn't want the man she'd grown to genuinely care for watching her subjected to it.

_Can you hear them? _She'd wondered, vaguely distressed at the notion of her humiliation being broadcast to Benzas Cori through the link.

_Little One, _he'd responded, and she'd felt his admiration like a soothing balm over her bleeding consciousness, _you're so brave. So strong to hold up against all they throw at you. But you will hold up; you are. Ignore their words; they have no other recourse to vent their frustration. They will not break you. You will not break._

Tears, of profound gratitude, had almost leaked from her stinging eyes at that. She remembered the first time he'd called her by that ridiculous nickname, and how she had raised an eyebrow in challenge but then laughed in spite of herself…he _was _her senior, and by over one hundred years, at that.

_No, _she agreed, glad also of the welcome distraction from her new, hellish reality, _I won't break._ _My crew?_

_Quite strong. They're a fine crew. You've trained them well._

The link was lost again, but Kathryn had amassed enough strength, enough hope to keep her going for some time. Perhaps it would be enough.

She'd been unconscious for nearly two hours after Garan Xi had slammed her head forcefully onto the ground, and adding those hours to the other five, she knew she only had about five hours left to endure…perhaps she'd make it that long.

Garan Xi didn't appear to have much control where she was concerned. They were patching her up every so often, but it wasn't enough, wasn't nearly enough to keep up with her injuries. She knew she was bleeding internally and that the Jehnz-yin military "doctor" knew next to nothing about human physiology. That much was easily ascertainable when the hideous creature "confirmed" Xi's suspicion that Janeway had indeed borne a child recently. She'd laughed at that, earning herself another vicious slap to the face, but it had been well worth the physical release of tension.

She supposed she could understand their logic…as they hadn't come into contact with many other races, it was understandable that the ignorant beasts would judge her by their standards, but the personal nature of the speculation really was almost too much in light of her injuries. She'd found it amusing, recognizing the onset of hysteria from somewhere within the small portion of her formidable mind that was as yet untouched by the horrifying tortures she was enduring.

There was nothing she could do now but to endure until the time came for her to complete her mission. She prayed to the spirit guide that Chakotay had introduced her to, many years ago, that her crew could carry on without her when it was finally finished.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

He watched as his leader's eyes at last lost that disconcerting haze and clarified. He may have become relatively used to the spectacle before him, but it never ceased to be disconcerting.

Gerros's eyes lit upon him, and he stiffened automatically, waiting.

"They're coming for her." The chancellor's incredulous tone was only just discernable through the residual weakness in his voice. "There's a damned renegade band of Oncaveat _actually planning_ to rescue the human! As if they could possibly –!"

Ellizas snickered, amused at the revelation. "I shall notify the general," he sneered, making his gnarled features contort. "Not that I should have to, but still, you never know: even a blind man's axe will sometimes strike true."

The chancellor made a noncommittal sound low in his throat. His advisor leaned forward, careful to keep in mind his master's preference for maintaining at least two meters of personal space between them. "You disagree, Chancellor?"

Gerros raised his intelligent eyes from the polished surface of his gilded desk to meet Ellizas's anxious stare. For a moment, he merely regarded his subordinate with an inscrutable expression on his unquestionably regal face. Ellizas subserviently dropped his gaze to the floor, as was expected of him. The chancellor may have been a half-breed, but what he lacked in identical physical likeness to the Jehnz-yi, he more than made up for with ruthlessness and cunning alone. It never proved wise to antagonize the leader of Gahnza Prime, no matter who you were; no one who had ever done so still lived to recount the tale. Except, perhaps, for one notable exception…

As though he'd read his servant's thoughts, the ruler of the Jehnz-yin Empire heaved a put-upon sigh. "I specifically ordered Xi not to permanently disfigure her, did I not, Ellizas?"

Ellizas Benn nodded. "You did, Chancellor; I was in this very room when you instructed him to do just that."

Gerros rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the driveling of his counsel. "And he just _would not_ seem able to control himself, would he?"

Benn swallowed; resisting the urge to vocalize in the affirmative was difficult. It was in his nature to flatter; it was how he had risen to the position of advisor in the first place. He had to settle, instead, for a curt nod of agreement. It was true; the human woman clearly wouldn't last more than a few hours – if that – at the general's current pace. But Ellizas was as yet unconvinced that they needed her to survive at all; if she died, the Oncaveat would be forced to choose another facilitator, allowing the Jehnz-yin military even more time to track down the alien vessel Voyager.

The chancellor of Gahnza stared at the large view screen dominating the left wall of his spacious antechambers. For a long minute, he said nothing; he was transfixed by the frozen image dominating the ornate frame. Mostly black, grey-speckled eyes trailed freely over the strange (and currently tormented) features of the figure's face, taking in every detail before moving methodically over the rest of her. He coolly assessed the physical wounds: the various swollen bite marks, the angry red welts, the rivulets of striking crimson running from the harsh leather bindings and from the numerous slashes and burns across her flesh. The open, gaping wounds along her ribcage, hips, and thigh revealed smooth, pink muscle tissue and, in a few places, cool ivory bone. The paleness of her skin, along with the unusual coloring of her alien hair and eyes, rather reminded Gerros of the mythical moon goddess of his pagan ancestors…what had she been called?

"Allisos-y. You're correct, Chancellor."

Gerros frowned, startled out of his quiet reverie by the whisper of his servant. He realized belatedly that he must have been musing aloud. "What did you say?"

Ellizas fluttered, at once made self-conscious by his master's piercing stare. "Err… the human…Janeway. You said she bore a resemblance to the old goddess, Allisos-y. I had not thought of it before, but I believe you correct. The coloring would be right." He laughed, obviously a nervous reflex, then sneered as if to cover his own foolish sentimentality. "But then it's only coincidence, of course. No immortal bleeds like _that_."

Gerros ignored him. His thoughts turned instead to the war – if it could even be called that. The Oncaveat had never proven much of a challenge. They were far better at hiding than they were at defending themselves. No. If anything, the Oncaveat race was a colossal nuisance, one that hung like a suffocating albatross around his neck. He could not rule indefinitely without public support, and that support was waning, slowly but very surely. Most wanted the Oncaveat tribes extinct already and out of their lives for good.

Yet they had not succeeded in the original goal: the Jehnz-yi still did not possess the one, coveted ability which had originally prompted the first leader of the fledgling Jehnz-yin Empire (the mightiest and noblest of the long-distanced Forty Seven Tribes) to approach some of the Oncaveat settlements with an offer nearly a century ago.

Asax, whose formidable portrait now hung on the opposite wall, had approached many of the off-world Oncaveat sects with an offer of protection from the empire's growing power in exchange for the sharing of some of the Oncaveat's more advanced mental abilities…something which could only be done through interbreeding of the two sects.

The haughty Oncaveat had refused the generous offer, citing general distaste for the idea of allying with the crude Jehnz-yi and outrage at the notion of having their daughters and sisters within ten light years of any Jehnz-yin warrior. Having approached each of the twenty or so chosen tribes in turn, and receiving the same answer from all of them, the emperor's rage had been a thing truly powerful to behold. The Jehnz-yin race was not at all used to being denied, and they found it unacceptable.

That the Jehnz-yi themselves had been the ones to drive their cousins further apart from them – with their fierce love of battle and their regard for physical prowess and domination in the first place – hadn't occurred to the noble emperor. That it was his own people's fault for having intentionally bred through the millennia in favor of muscle and brawn, virility and blood-lust, with no regard for the price they paid with regard to less prized abilities – most specifically the ability to commune telepathically – had never seemed to cross the emperor's mind.

It crossed Gerros's mind now, as it often had before while he contemplated the questionable history of his people. There was no doubt in his heart that the Jehnz-yi were far superior to the Oncaveat. After all, had not history already proven, again and again, that they were the dominant race? Still, the first emperor's quest had been a strategic and very sensible one: thousands of years of isolation had taken its toll on the Jehnz-yin gene pool. Their women produced offspring at a more and more rapidly declining rate, and those not stillborn often died young from one of several prominent birth defects. The fantastic ability to commune with the Unani – and with each other – notwithstanding, the emperor's decision to expand their breeding pool had been wise…if not a necessity itself for the future of the Jehnz-yin people.

Of course, the emperor hadn't realized it. Few, if any, seemed to appreciate how very much in need Gerros's people were with regard to diversity. The emperor's concern had been primarily for the riches, the plethora of resources which were reportedly to be found in the Unani plane…

Sometimes, Gerros wondered whether he alone understood the true nature of the threat to his people.

What the first emperor had initially proposed was an equitable merging: an arrangement meant to be beneficial to both sides and one that would have allowed the chosen Oncaveat tribes to continue to live and thrive within the newly expanded Jehnz-yin borders. He'd been lying, of course; eventually the chosen tribes would have been enslaved and made to serve their better Jehnz-yin masters.

What Asax ultimately decided upon, with the near complete support of his people, was to go ahead with the merging as planned…but to obliterate the unwarrantedly proud Oncaveat from existence in the process.

Now, over a century later, Gerros was dealing with the fallout from that campaign. The Oncaveat were nearly gone from Jehnz-yin space. Those who hadn't fled through the conduits to the lush Unani sector had nearly been wiped out of existence entirely. The few that remained were no threat, as the Jehnz-yi had seized all valuable goods and technologies long ago…and then systematically set about slaughtering any remaining Oncaveat settlement which showed the slightest capability (or inclination) to revive them.

The coveted ability to open the prized rifts into Unani territory had not come along with the desired expansion of their breeding pool. It was commonly believed that unless a Jehnz-yin was more than fifty percent Oncaveat, he could not be taught to open one of the coveted rifts.

Gerros, of course, knew better, but still there was the matter of the Jehnz-yin's need for continued expansion of the gene pool. Nearly one quarter of the population was mixed, yes, but it was not enough…particularly in light of the sheer dominance of Jehnz-yin genes over their Oncaveat counterparts. Not a single offspring deviated from the physical structure of a classic Jehnz-yin by more than a few centimeters in height or by anything more than a few, softer lines of the distinctive ridges and claws of the Jehnz-yi.

He had tried, over the years, to garner public support for scaling back the Oncaveat campaign, but he'd met with heavy resistance each time; the obnoxious military…largely under the direction of Garan Xi…continued to campaign for nothing less than total annihilation of the Oncaveat race. As far as the military (and by default, the public, as the military were so unfortunately loved by them) was concerned, the Oncaveat had had their chance a century ago. The lesser races did not deserve a reprieve; Jehnz-yin victory was all that mattered. Though the public seemed to accept the need for fresh sources of genetic material, their acceptance went only so far. Many feared that the Jehnz-yin people would be weakened by any more outsourcing. Gerros had been simply unable to make them see the true direness of their situation.

Now, though, he wondered. He glanced again at the image of the woman on the screen and was once more astounded at the physical likeness to the old goddess.

Sourly, he turned the topic back to the bane of his existence: Garan Xi. "He cannot be trusted to restrain himself, and he has ceased responding to our communications. Beyond that, he does not appear to be meeting with any success; she has told him nothing of consequence. Our time grows shorter with each passing hour."

Ellizas frowned but only inwardly; he didn't dare do so visibly. He'd grown to expect the unexpected from the admittedly brilliant yet eccentric chancellor…and his instincts were screaming that he would not like what he heard next. Still, he had to ask, "What do you intend to do about him then, Chancellor?"

The ruler swiveled again to regard the image on the viewer. At the press of a hidden button set along the inside of the armrest to his chair, the transmission resumed. He winced slightly at the new information presented there; Garan himself held a long, heavy instrument, the end of which was affixed to a solid block of rusted, blood-spattered steel.

Gerros knew the instrument well. In an all-too-characteristic fit of rage, his father had taken the very implement to his only son's cranium. It had been his Jehnz-yin genes alone, and the reinforced skeletal structure they afforded him, which had saved Gerros from death that miserable night. And had the housekeeper not found the young boy huddled in the closet, whimpering and clutching his grotesquely swollen head some few hours later and taken pity on him, Gerros Xi would never have lived through the night. Of course, Garan had had the poor old woman tortured to death upon learning of her kindness to his "already pathetically soft half-breed son", claiming that she should have left him to "learn the ways of the world" rather than have wasted what little money she had on paying the local healer to address his son's injuries.

The old housekeeper had shown Gerros the only kindness he'd ever known. If he hadn't hated his father before that horrible day, he certainly had after being made to listen to old Nez-yah's screams as she paid the price for that kindness…

He watched with growing anger as the general hefted the heavy tool all the way back over his obscenely muscled shoulder…and then swung the heavy slab into the side of the woman's good leg with all the considerable force he could muster. There was an audible crunching sound immediately followed by a piercing scream as the bones of her thigh splintered, probably shattering on impact.

A low growl issued from Gerros's throat. He whirled to face his servant, on his feet for the first time since the meeting had begun. "Inform the _general_ that his services are no longer required. We will take the human into government custody – immediately. I want her brought here, where I can oversee her questioning myself. " He turned, missing the look of abject horror the servant shot at his back. "Have my personal physician standing by to receive her. And send for three or four of the government's best healers, also." He stopped short, apparently weighing a decision in his mind before offering: "There's no telling what kind of care such a foreign species may require, and I don't want her dying before I have the chance to study her."

He couldn't help himself. Benn was appalled that the chancellor wanted to bring…that woman…_here. _"You can't be serious, Chancellor," he stammered, genuinely confused and bewildered. "Having her on the home world will only bring the Voyager ship right to our doorstep when they come searching for her! You said yourself that it was wisest to separate the government from this business with the Starfleets…there's no telling what they're capable of do-"

The chancellor had whirled again to face him, silencing him effectively with a single look.

"Bring her _now_."

Benn swallowed hard. Bowing hastily from the room, all he could manage was a stuttering, "Yes, Chancellor, of course…as you wish."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: The characters aren't mine. Wait, Benzas is mine. The Oncaveat and the Jehnz-yi are mine…but the really good ones still belong to Paramount. _Damn_.

**Chapter Rating**: T plus, maybe. Violence, violence, a little language.

**Notes**: Borrowed some things from Jeri Taylor's Mosaic, but no infringement is intended.

Chapter Ten

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

On a shuttlecraft, even one as large as the Delta Flyer, avoiding the other passengers was a feat Harry Kim had thought patently impossible before today. Somehow, though, the rest of the away team managed to find a way to avoid Voyager's first officer almost entirely. In the tense hours aboard the small spacecraft, they found their company in one of two places: with one another or with Benzas, the last minute addition to their rescue mission. They systematically tried to stay out of Chakotay's way.

None of the other three passengers so much as came near him except for strategy meetings, which consisted of Chakotay laying down the plans and everyone else either nodding or grunting in agreement. Only the doctor had dared to make a suggestion and he only once; the resulting look which the commander froze him with, in mid-sentence, was borderline surpassing the glare they'd all come to fear from Janeway herself.

Neither of his fellow crewmen recognized him. He'd shed more than just his Starfleet uniform upon boarding the newly repaired Delta Flyer. He'd shed something else, something more…indefinable, yet no less real for that obscurity. He wasn't the man they'd known on Voyager. He was little more than instinct: primal, raw.

And angry. Oh, how the rage radiated from his powerful form in hot, radiation-level intensity waves! To share breathing room with this man, this new man emerging wearing the affable commander's familiar, ethnic features like a thin mask, was to be touched by that rage and to experience a small taste of what lay in store for the true targets of that rage: the Jehnz-yi. Even the doctor felt it and remarked upon the eerie sensation to the miserable Harry Kim while stubbornly using the Flyer's replicator to prepare a well-balanced lunch that none of his three organic, fellow passengers were going to touch anyway.

Chakotay, for the most part, piloted the shuttle. He'd long ago overcome the urge to be sick – violently sick – all over the floor of the immaculate shuttle. There was only darkness now, only a calm, almost serene determination borne of his unparalled rage. Once satisfied with the basic outline for the recue plan, he'd begun directing Harry in curt, stony language to prepare the necessary equipment. As the doctor had cautioned, they'd need to take quite a few medical supplies along in order to address some of the captain's critical injuries before moving her.

Chakotay had listened to the doctor's instructions for temporarily staunching heavy blood flow and noted the compound which would slow her heart rate in order to minimize stress to her impaired internal organs. He'd absorbed everything with an impassive face, his eyes glittering all the while with that alien expression of…well, the doctor had been unable to find a suitable term for that look besides malice. He'd shivered, and once again reiterated that the rescue mission should proceed as quickly as possible. Not only would they likely need to get the captain to Sickbay immediately, but there was still extensive reconstruction surgery to be performed on the stabilized, sedated Neelix back aboard Voyager. He wasn't happy to have been forced to leave a patient in critical condition, but he obviously understood the need for triage in this situation. The captain's injuries were now his top priority.

As soon as the doctor was able to hastily dismiss himself from the flight deck, Chakotay grudgingly summoned Benzas for one last run through of the plan. Though Benzas was the last man in the galaxy he wanted by his side for this mission, he'd been forced to admit, as he had before embarking upon the rescue mission, that Benzas's ability to connect with the captain would be invaluable in locating her should technology fail to do so. Taking the doctor as his companion, though ideal, wasn't feasible. The EMH's programming would not allow him to take a life, much less to do so repeatedly and in cold blood. And Harry, who'd provided as detailed an outline of the prison's holding cells as he could, would be needed here to man the transporter, communications with the away team, and weapons, should they be necessary.

Once more, he discussed the usage of phasers, scanning equipment, and transport enhancers with the Oncaveat senator. They would enter the fortress the same way Kathryn had…the first time…through the underground caverns leading to the individual prison cells. The restraining field was weakest there, and their scans would most accurately enable them to avoid high concentrations of Jehnz-yin soldiers. They would neutralize any enemy they come into contact with and their phasers would not be set to stun. On the off chance that the Jehnz-yi had managed to compensate for the Starfleet weapons' fire with an adjustment to the dampening field, Harry, who would remain behind on the Delta Flyer, was to beam them up the moment they were able to clear that field (should the transport enhancers prove faulty or impossible to get to her).

He would also keep a targeted lock on the military base at all times. If nothing else, Kathryn Janeway would not be permitted to suffer one moment more than necessary…even if, in the end, they had to kill her to end that suffering.

Chakotay needed no time to mull this last decision over…none whatsoever. He knew, thanks to his experience in the Maquis, that there were times when that final, most horrible of decisions had to be made: prolong life until the very last second, no matter the quality of that life, or accept the inevitable and spare further suffering by allowing a quick end to the pain? Adhere to the principles of civilized society, or set aside his natural, human abhorrence for the notion of deliberately causing of the death of someone he cared for?

When he was younger – before the Cardassians had shown him the true nature of evil – he'd innocently believed that he could never take another life. He'd been sure that he certainly would never contemplate ending the existence of someone he cared for… Oh, but that was well before he'd learned about the true depravity that existed in the universe…well before he'd seen with his own eyes the abject cruelty that sentient beings were capable of inflicting on other living souls.

He was no longer so naïve.

With any living being, it was difficult enough…the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, in fact. But as he'd learned courtesy of Cardassian soldiers, with someone you cared for it was always hardest…to commit the ultimate sacrifice in the name of unconditional love.

He hadn't thought that he could do that with her. He hadn't thought himself strong enough to make that call, or to even consider setting out parameters, in advance, under which he'd be forced to make the decision…not with her.

But then he'd turned to the screen and watched, completely powerless, _helpless_ while Garan Xi lashed open, with an object most resembling a metal-enforced whip, skin that was never meant to be abused in such a hideous fashion. Skin that should never have met with mocking scrutiny the likes of which it was facing at the hands of the Jehnz-yi. Skin that should have remained soft, hidden, cherished and cared for…lovingly, and with deep reverence. Skin that hadn't been marked before the Jehnz-yin general had dug in his fierce hateful claws and had mauled, touched in anger and in foul possession…in blatant desecration.

He didn't have to hear the words coming from the foul creature's mouth to know the nature of the threats implied. He didn't have to use his imagination to read the flickering fear, the misplaced and admirable, prideful resolve on her face as Xi hissed dreadful promises into that face: a face that wasn't meant to make expressions of such tortured anguish. A face that should have smiled, unmarred with her radiant warmth, with her trademark authority. A face that should have remained beautiful, healthy, alive…a face that was never intended to reflect such desperate despair or such unbearable suffering. A face that should not have had to grimace in inhuman amounts of pain…a face that should never, in a universe of righteousness, have reflected that it saw through the barriers of the living and now preferred death to what life had to offer.

And he'd given the order with no hesitation whatsoever. He'd looked Harry Kim full in the face, directly in the eyes, and demanded that he lock the full complement of the Delta Flyers few torpedoes, as well as the impressive array of the shuttle's phaser banks, on the compound that housed the captain of Voyager. Because if they could not get her out of that hell, there was no way they could leave her to suffer in it. There was no way _he_ could. Not like that. Even if it meant killing her – and himself – in the process.

Chakotay would give the order to have them all killed, and he would let the terrible burden of having fired the fatal blow rest on young Harry Kim's shoulders before he would ever permit her to suffer such a horrible fate for one microsecond longer than necessary.

And when Harry hadn't argued, had simply swallowed hard and darted a suddenly mature, wizened look toward the viewscreen Chakotay always switched off the instant he heard the movement of someone entering the flight deck… The first officer of Voyager realized then that Harry, too, had learned that horrible lesson – the lesson that sometimes the kindest decision was to end inhuman suffering, rather than cling to the notion that to end that life was the worst choice a human being could make. Harry had gotten his own bitter lesson, thanks to the Jehnz-yi.

It shouldn't have been that way. There should never have been creatures spawned which could force a choice so hideous on any living soul, but Chakotay had long ago ceased to rail against reality. It shouldn't have been, but it was. He accepted it.

Garan Xi was a dead man. He had been dead the moment he had first pressed that acid-tinged knife to Kathryn Janeway's stomach, the second he sliced into her skin…the instant he made her utter that agonized, pain-filled scream that Chakotay knew he would hear to his dying day… The general had already signed his death warrant. With every single hideous violation he inflicted in the hours afterward, all he managed to do was to determine just how horrible and prolonged his death was going to be...

Xi had merely succeeded in determining just how much satisfaction Chakotay would take from ending his miserable life.

And as Chakotay watched the torture proceeding, having finalized the plans to infiltrate the enemy fortress and liberate Voyager's captain, his hand invariably slid down to the steel of the old-fashioned hunting knife he'd pulled from the storage bins upon deciding to head this mission. It now nestled in its old place, in the holster secured under the black special operations uniform he'd pulled from the ship's databanks before departing. Its old place at his side, concealed and easily accessible to him at all times…the weight of it, strange at first, soon became a familiar, comforting presence once again. It reminded him with each horrible heart-pounding breath during which her life hung in the balance that her pain and suffering would not go unavenged…no matter the final outcome of the rescue attempt.

He waited. They were almost there. He didn't have long now…

Soon, he would again be by her side…where he belonged. And he'd be damned if he ever let her out of his sight again. He'd be doubly damned if he let Garan Xi take anything more than he'd taken from her already. She would get through this, he vowed silently to himself. He would bring her through this, and her soul would be untouched by all the horror it was enduring now. That or it would be at rest, where the Jehnz-yi couldn't reach her to inflict any more suffering than they already had.

But if that happened, he would be condemned to the darkness for eternity. If he let her die there…_had _to let her end her days with the Jehnz-yi as her last memory and if he couldn't follow her into death's blessed release…

His hand reached beneath his tunic to trace along the handle of the knife. He was only reassured by the rightness of its presence there.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

Her very last contact with Benzas marked not only the complete sapping of her bond mate's strength but nearly the end of Kathryn Janeway's, as well.

_One hour. He said I have one hour_. She had no idea how she was going to make it that long.

At least she now knew, thanks to Xi's smug outburst, the reason for her seeming super-human ability to retain consciousness even through unfathomable levels of pain: they'd administered a powerful stimulant while she lay passed out on the filthy stone floor.

It was more than the physical pain…and they'd yet to remove any limbs or digits as they had with poor Neelix, but hardly an hour passed without the general threatening to do just that…and more. Still, that wasn't her primary concern. What the Starfleet captain feared most was the increasing affinity the Jehnz-yi appeared to be gaining for the idea of "cutting her down".

It would be the very last straw, the final humiliation…potentially the point at which Janeway felt she might just break after all.

It had become apparent that, due to height restrictions, there were certain things they couldn't do as long as she remained tethered in her current position. Granted at this point she wasn't entirely sure she'd categorize those other things – which would undoubtedly follow being dropped to the ground and freed of the restraints now positioning her – as worse…

She'd certainly never been forced to endure those "other things" before… nor had she been made to experience extensive physical torture prior to coming into contact with the Jehnz-yi. Now that she'd undergone the latter, Kathryn found herself wondering whether her instinctual fear of the former could really be justified at all: perhaps it would be preferable to the relentless, wanton destruction of her body and its most vital systems, after all.

Surely an hour had to have passed by now? Surely the searing of her flesh, muscle and bone must have become her whole reality for more than just a few insignificant moments?

She'd barely any recollection of the notion that once, barely a day ago, she'd been the strong, confident leader strolling through the various decks of her ship and galvanizing her crew into continued action. It was difficult to believe that she'd been addressed with nothing but the utmost respect from everyone around her. She found it impossible to conjure the sensation of being warm and having a throat that wasn't parched from thirst…couldn't imagine that she'd had hands whose fingers she could feel and use to manipulate objects to do her bidding…or a body that didn't scream in protest with each shuddered inhalation of breath. To Kathryn, it now seemed that pain had been her world for as long as she could remember – pain, and the forced, constant interaction with Garan Xi.

At first, they had fallen into a routine. It was a game, the dance between them. He'd ask a question, and she'd merely glare at him with a look meant to convey her absolute contempt for both the man and his questions alike. She used her love of her crew to justify, to make bearable, the sharp sting of every damaging blow. The slash of a blade, liberally coated with acidic residue seared into her thigh. _That one was for Paris_, she thought, and managed to clamp down on the automatic scream of pain only with the thought of his insolent grin flashing at her from the helm. The bite of a whip ate through the thin flesh of her inner arm. _That's one blow Nicoletti won't have to take_. The whimper wasn't anywhere near what it might have been, had the young woman's warm and slightly mischievous eyes not danced merrily at the edges of her vision. The claws or fangs of Xi's men ripped and tore into her flesh. _But Gerron's skin is still intact._ The Bajoran's soft voice, shyly greeting her for the first time, was her favorite memory of the young man...

Kathryn knew the dangers of giving her interrogators any additional pieces of information to be used against her, no matter how small. But after a while, the general's brutal manipulations of her exposed and increasingly mutilated flesh finally drove her to parry his questions with pithy, defiantly sarcastic retorts in which she demonstrated for her tormentor the difference in not only their raw intelligence but also in their wit. It had afforded her a great deal of satisfaction to note Xi's increasing frustration over his repeatedly proven inability to match her for sheer cleverness…

The satisfaction hadn't lasted for long; indeed, how could it possibly sustain her through such devastating physical abuse?

The questions were always the same. She heard them – sometimes alarmingly near her ear, and sometimes seemingly from a distance as though filtered through a particularly poor sieve – but often, the inquiries were unable to be distinguished from the ceaseless background of base insults and snarled threats hissed at her from his equally foul subordinates.

Where were the coordinates? They had to be close, didn't they? Surely they were, with the next window nearly upon them and the captain's ship so close by? Did she know how very fortunate she was that they were using her for bait, and thereby wanted her at least _somewhat_ intact for now?

At that, she'd laughed, unable to stop herself; if this was his definition of "somewhat intact", she sure as hell couldn't imagine what she'd look like otherwise. Then again, that wasn't true…she _could _imagine. She'd seen the results of a band of Jehnz-yin soldiers intent upon total destruction before – she'd seen it upon boarding Benzas's ship. In many ways, it would have been better for her if she hadn't. Then, at least, the captain might have found solace in being able to reassure herself that many of the general's threats were idle at best.

Knowing that they weren't wasn't doing a great deal for her morale.

Still the questions continued, often repeating in a maddeningly rhythmic pattern which almost became like the refrain of a familiar melody. It played in her head even when she should have heard only silence.

What would it take to break her? Pain didn't seem to be working – nor did reason. Perhaps they really had exhausted that option for now…her pathetically frail form didn't appear able to handle much more, anyway. Perhaps their interaction should take a different tack?

His minions agreed with this assessment whole-heartedly.

How had she evaded detection upon landing? Wouldn't showing him how to compensate for her ship's technology be far preferable to the sting of another whip lash? He was running out of skin to mark; didn't she know how inconsiderate of her he found that to be? Really, if she weren't so puny, such a pathetically skinny creature he might have had inches and inches of pearly white flesh left to brand…did she really want him to move on to other methods?

He made it clear, with a grinning demonstration of clawed, gnarled fingers that she did _not_.

Where was Voyager? Did she even know, or had they abandoned her worthless body to Xi's tender mercies? Either way, he assured her, he'd have his satisfaction from her in the end. Did she know how sinfully delicious the general found the taste of her alien skin?

In the beginning, Kathryn imagined that her mind was playing tricks on her; some of the relentless questions were surely too ridiculous for her to have heard correctly! Yet at the growing sense of desperation crowding in about her, she found that it mattered less and less. Excruciating agony and concussion-induced fatigue were taking their toll; she no longer heard the general's questions, no longer felt the raw, mind-boggling torture of steel-ravaged flesh and acid-singed muscles.

She began to recall the faces of her crew again, one by one, pulling them from sluggish, uncooperative memory into the forefront of her mind. She wanted their smiling faces to be the last thing she saw in life before her death hopefully delivered them from mortal danger one final time…

And Garan Xi, for the life of him, couldn't fathom what enabled his victim to produce that soft, triumphant smile as he flicked the whip forward once more to lash against the already weeping flesh of her ribcage.

* * *

**Part III **

* * *

When Chakotay wasn't meeting with him, Benzas remained in his cabin, which he shared with Harry Kim.

The Oncaveat made his own plans in the short time that he had left. He was aware of the commander's pain; Benzas had felt the same soul-wrenching fear with each contact he'd initiated with Kathryn. But he could not allow the fact that he, too, had developed strong feelings for Kathryn Janeway to stop him from the decision he ultimately made. _The plan must be carried out_, he reminded himself. _If it isn't then her suffering has truly been in vain._ It had to proceed or the remaining Oncaveat, the hundreds still left in this part of space, would be sacrificed as a result. The Jehnz-yin military had to be stopped once and for all. And at this unprecedented time, the opportunity looming before them now (thanks to Janeway's self-sacrifice) could not be missed. It couldn't. Too many lives were still at stake…

Two rifts simultaneously opened. It only occurred once a century. The opportunity _could not be missed_.

He hoped that Kathryn would forgive him for the choice he made...he knew she would, that she already had forgiven him. She felt there was nothing to forgive in the first place. She'd volunteered for this mission, after all. And Hedri had been more than honest that Kathryn's rift would be a one-way ticket for the facilitator. With the absolute confirmation of the spy's existence...it had to be her. He'd deliberately not asked her until the very last contact what the true coordinates were...

And now he knew. It was final. There was no more time. The hand had been dealt, it would have to be played out now. It was even more important than ever that this rift be opened. There was no choice; the circumstances could not have aligned more advantageously for the Oncaveat.

Still he'd hoped that perhaps...maybe...

She cared deeply for him, too. The bond told him that, even if she herself could not. The initial bonding (before she'd received her specific instructions), allowed them to share everything…everything. The parallels between their life experiences meant that he and Kathryn shared certain ideals and goals. It meant they intrinsically understood deep, hidden truths about the other that they both generally tried to hide from their subordinates. Ruefully, he thought back to the moment of initial bonding at the summit...

_He felt the pull, the delicious sensation of fullness, as he had three times before in his lifetime. The beautiful energy, the consciousness of his familiar contact, Hedri, flowed through him. He could see the glow surrounding his blue flesh as Hedri very gently and very lovingly occupied his physical being. She felt heavenly, a manifestation of true love…_

_His peoples' guardian. Their protector, their strength, and their deliverance. He ignored the tingling as she carefully used her great awareness (of things he'd never have much comprehension of) to make the alterations necessary for him to become, once more, a conduit of her magnificent aura. And then, as always, he experienced the amazing surge of the others' conscious energy; the other Unani, who mapped his body with their strange, methodical, and exploratory curiosity. _

"_Welcome, Benzas Cori. We meet again."_

"_Yes," he agreed, delighted at the gift of communion with such powerful creatures. "And it is good to know you once more."_

_A shiver, a whispering breeze that was the manifestation of their laughter, rippled through him. The delight, the pleasure of that sensation, prompted him to laugh aloud also, startling the woman who sat before him by the fire. She was clearly entranced by what she was witnessing. The glow of the firelight and the radiant, shining blue aura now emanating from his large frame reflected off of her pale alien skin, making her appear even more other-worldly and even more regal than he'd thought her before. _

_He thought her breathtaking like this, pure inquisitive wonder shining in her blue eyes. He smiled at her, aware of the thoughts tickling in his mind…_

"_So, Benzas, you find a soul mate at last?" Hedri teased, seeing what he saw through his own eyes. "Who is this strange creature you have brought before us? Kathryn? A leader, like you?"_

_He grinned broadly, though at the human woman or at Hedri's teasing he couldn't have said…didn't care to waste precious time wondering. "Yes, Hedri. This is Captain Janeway, my fellow leader. She has offered to become our facilitator." Reaching out, he offered his first hands to her, palms up, and waited for her to take them of her own accord. He addressed her aloud. "If you feel you are ready, Kathryn, take my hands. You will meet Hedri, and she will tell us if you are capable of being a conduit."_

_She hesitated only briefly, and he understood the moment she touched both small hands in his the reason for the hesitation. Her memories, her essence, whirled through him as Hedri sought to know the deepest secrets of Kathryn's heart, of her formidable mind and soul…_

_He saw a little girl weeping at a small table, and a moderately sized furry creature with his head buried in her lap. He looked through the girl's eyes, seeing the deep brown orbs of unconditional love reflected back at her. Defeat. Wounded pride. Longing for approval from her idol, her…father, yes._

_He saw the girl much older, apparently in a box or tiny coffin. Wounded, in physical pain, her cold hands clamped over her ears to drown out the sound of something unbelievably horrifying…screams. The screams of someone for whom she cared very deeply. Hopelessness. Terror. Despair._

_He touched her with his mind, a gentle caress, remembered his experience with forced witness. He shared this openly with her: only her. Once more, he was watching his bondmate brutally tortured at the hands of the Jehnz-yi. He was hearing the cries of his young son as he was ripped from Benzas's weakened embrace and carried away down a long hall. The last time he'd ever seen the young boy's face in life, it had been terrified, calling out to his father, Benzas, to save him. He had been unable to and the grief, the overwhelming sorrow that image, that tortured memory recalled… He'd broken free but not until the last moment, and the next time he held his son, it was a broken and lifeless body Benzas cradled and not the loving, tenderly joyful creature that little Anhar had been before the Jehnz-yi mercilessly slaughtered him. _

_He felt her warmth drawing him out of the misery of the memory, heard her unspoken words. "I'm so sorry for your loss…"_

_And he felt her sorrow at his ordeal wash over him, too. What a loving creature she was! He felt rather than saw her blush at the open compliment._

_Then it came much more quickly, blending together as the bond deepened and became real. A small shuttlecraft encased in ice. Helplessness, anguish unbelievable, too much for the soul to bear. A small gathering of Senators around a bonfire, meeting to plan another crossover. A large station of some kind exploding in a blaze of weapons fire._

_Longing. Missing the loved ones separated by cruelly vast amounts of time and space. A tearstained pillow beneath a starry, lonely viewport. Another tearstained pillow, a lonely cell of necessary isolation, a straw pallet beneath an open window. Separated from loved ones by death, and by personal failure. The lingering scent of his bondmate, Aniky…her warmth and her loving smile. The lingering rememberance of warmth and loving male hands soothing away the day's worries... another large, furry creature, snuggling at their feet._

"_I'm sorry," they both thought at once. Then: "I understand."_

_A beautiful alien face regarding him from across the bonfire. Red hair and a dazzling, yet so very sad smile._

_Longing. A question, more like an offer. Silent, yet no less real for the lack of posing…_

_More sadness. Regret. A strong, tanned face with fiercely dark eyes, smiling in open support. A tribal marking, a symbol of his deep spirituality. Unspoken love. Arguments, vehement and heated. Disagreement. Always love. A figure in uniform, always by her side, even when she pushed him away with both hands. A promise, unspoken, yet no less binding for that lack of avowal. Waiting for home. Always waiting._

"_I'm sorry," she offered silently, the solitary tear slipping from one of her brilliant eyes to escape its stubborn confinement. "It isn't…we've never…I don't even know if he still…but I…"_

"_But you can't. You couldn't, with another, until you are sure. And you don't feel you can ask him until you are home."_

_Grateful, she nodded and turned away to regain her composure as the link was disbanded. _

_He missed it instantly. It had been half a century since he'd felt that kind of completion. That sort of compatibility with another soul…it had been since Aniky was taken from him. Kathryn couldn't form the words, the thoughts, but he'd understood. He understood all about her now. She'd been especially reluctant to take the final leap into bonding, and he saw the reason for it; Kathryn by necessity closed herself off from those around her, even him – the reason for her demurral. It was the only way she knew to stay whole, to stay strong and to keep pushing forward. To stay in control. To lead those 150 souls who had entrusted their lives into her care..._

"_You should learn another way, Little One," he informed her boldly, still telepathically, laughing at the stark glare of challenge issuing from her stormy eyes. He sent her a teasing, "You're half my size, half my age. I'll call you what I like."_

_When she stared at him, mouth agape for long seconds, he laughed gleefully until she was forced to smile back at him. He knew the instant she realized what he was doing and felt her gratitude wash over him. _

"_Just not in front my crew, will you?" she allowed archly."Tom Paris would never let me live it down."_

_Benzas chuckled, nodding in acquiescence. "Not in front of anyone, Little One. Just between us." She raised an eyebrow but smiled good-naturedly through the overwhelming tide of emotions still coursing through her._

_There was a stirring beside him._

_He turned to Tuvok, who was disbanding his link also, though the Vulcan hadn't required Oncaveat aid to form the link with the Unani. The psychic properties of the bonfire, and of the gathering of the strongest telepaths among the Oncaveat senators, were sufficient to boost the strangely stoic man's intrinsic abilities to the necessary level alone. _

_Kathryn took several moments to steady herself, at odds with heart-stirring memories and horrors from the past and unrequited longings of the present. When she at last settled, she turned to her crewman first. "All right, Tuvok?" she asked evenly of the Vulcan._

"_I am well." Benzas noted the concern in those dark eyes and smiled to himself. Clearly, Kathryn wasn't the only one struggling with the deep emotional resonance of the bond; the security officer's control was not yet back in place. "And you, Captain?"_

_He watched the quirk of her lips, fascinated, as her eyes shone again with unshed tears. He felt her realization of her friend's unguarded emotions and also her joy at having been granted this rare gift and insight into her trusted companion's soul. Joy – hers. And, surprisingly, amidst strong levels of disapproval and discomfort, the Vulcan's._

"_I'm well, also, my friend," she whispered. _

Benzas sighed, pulling himself out of his reverie.

He loved her. He had from the moment of contact, upon feeling her essence for the first time. He loved her perhaps more completely than the first officer ever would, he thought bitterly, shaking off the memories of completion and bonding and the sensation of longing that each severance invoked. He loved her and he had seen into the deepest, darkest parts of her…the parts the first officer, Chakotay, denied. But Benzas knew her darkness, intimately, and he loved it as much as her light. Her goodness outweighed her natural mortal failings: her pride, her stubbornness, her absoluteness. He loved them all. He accepted all.

He didn't see some idealized version of Kathryn when he looked at her. And he didn't feel the need to shelter her or to censor her, either in thought or in deed. He respected her too much for that. He respected her too much to restrict her choices...or her autonomy. He could not say the same of the man she'd chosen. He didn't think the first officer deserved her, in truth.

But he trusted her enough to make the choice for herself and she had, and Benzas had lost to the other man. He could accept that, for her, if it made her happy. It didn't. Both humans were either too stubborn or too frightened to take that final step…the step which would join not only the soul but also the physical.

He understood her reluctance, but he found it ridiculous. The most intimate parts of the two humans were already joined. The damage, from what he could see, was already done. Physical expression of that which existed would not have been their undoing…if anything it was the denial of that bond which was causing them harm.

But the plan had to be carried out. She had allowed Benzas's people to come this far towards permanently safeguarding them from Jehnz-yin persecution…and now it was up to him to see that the plan she had set in motion was realized, in spite of Voyager's recue attempt. He made no more connections through the link. It was no longer safe and Kathryn hadn't, as they'd hoped, been able to wrestle the name of the Oncaveat traitor from the general.

In the last few minutes of time before he was forced to take action for the peace of his too long tormented soul, he rested, secure in his final decision.

He would need his strength to ensure that the outcome of the Voyagers' rescue attempt was in his people's best interests…and not in the interests of one.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T plus, maybe. Most of it is vague and implied.

**Notes**: Borrowed some things from Jeri Taylor's Mosaic, but no infringement is intended.

Chapter Eleven

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Shasta viewed the grey moon on the viewscreen with an admirably repressed shudder. The military base – one of dozens on the satellite of the uninhabited planet it orbited – brought back bitter memories. The senator had never thought to see this place again after that first hellish experience…

She glanced at her counterparts, the four remaining members of her tribe who had been brave enough, selfless enough, foolish enough to join her on her veritable suicide mission. Enki and Gura, two of their most venerable teachers, were both aging and no longer had functions to perform: there were no children left in Accor's tribe. The two, who'd instructed the senator herself as a young girl, were nearing the latter stages of life and would be of little practical use. But they'd insisted upon accompanying their senator to try to rescue the human captain. Shasta, understanding that they wished to die an honorable death, in pursuit of a final and worthy objective, hadn't had the heart to deny them. It was the same with Halthos, their tribe's old healer. Though he, at least, might be of some use – if by some miracle of the cosmos they actually managed to reach the alien woman at all.

Yurros, the final member of the team, had refused to remain behind. It was the first time the agreeable priest had ever stared her in the eyes and outright defied one of her orders. He'd argued them, yes. Disagreed with them, even vehemently and verbally so…but _defied _them? Never.

It had nearly come to blows between them…on her part, anyway. Initially, she'd laughed at the quiet announcement that he intended to join her for her mission. When that had failed to assuage the uncharacteristic look of steel in his usually so-soft eyes, she'd countered with logic: her next-greatest weapon. How could a priest who'd taken vows to cherish life, to nurture and cultivate it, reconcile his soul to _taking_ a life – likely many lives, she'd demanded, hardly bothering to keep the light of triumph from shining through her eyes.

Hurru Yurros hadn't even blinked as she recalled now with wonder. Her gentle lover had merely reached out two strong first hands and softly placed them over the scarred bumps where the senator's first arms had once been attached. He'd caressed the marred flesh, looking all the while into her eyes and he spoke directly to her heart as only those within the link or a bond mate could have: _do you think I don't know, Shasta? _The fierce expression had taken her by surprise and left her speechless. It was the look not of a forgiving priest or gentle scholar, but of a man whose mate had been wounded. It was vengeful. It was powerful. She'd gasped at the intensity of that look. _Do you think I don't know that it's the one who did __**this**__ whom you seek to meet again? Have you not realized…in all this time…that I know his face as well as you? That I know his voice exactly as you know it? We share our dreams, Shasta, _he'd admonished. _Our dreams…and our nightmares._

She'd tried, a tear starting down her lightly furred face. She'd tried to persuade him to stay safe and out of harm's way but he'd had none of it…

He came up behind her now, all four arms crossing over her, and pulled her close. _No, _he reaffirmed, having overheard her thoughts. _I'll have none of it now, either. You won't meet him alone. _

It no longer mattered who saw them embrace – not in what was likely to be their last moments alive.

It would have surprised the senator to know just how irrelevant it was to conceal her relationship with the gentle Yurros. In the back of the small ship, Enki and Halthos exchanged a knowing smile at the sight of the two lovers.

There were few among Shasta's people who hadn't stumbled upon the two of them secreted in some small closet or another over the years. Though it was officially forbidden for the priest _or _a senator of child-producing age to engage in sexual activity of any kind, Accor's tribe was close: they knew neither Oncaveat would callously enter into any sort of dalliance except for true love. Most approved of the union. Those who did not respected their leader enough to hold their tongues.

And though it would have galled Shasta to know this, too, most already knew the union would never bring about any offspring between them, so there was no need to worry over her potential status as facilitator (should their senator be honored with that distinction again at some future summit). There would be no telepathic bond with her children to worry over in the event that the Jehnz-yi should learn of the existence of such theoretical offspring…

And that was a lesson learned the hard way for the Oncaveat. In the beginning, there had been no such precaution in place. But then, shortly after the onset of the war, the third facilitator's eldest son had been caught up in a Jehnz-yin raid while his father waited for the summons to open his rift many light years away.

The Jehnz-yi had used the child's connection with his father to glean the whereabouts of the next facilitator…and as the chosen one had been with the thousand or so Oncaveat intending to cross over with him, a mass-slaughter had ensued, the likes of which had never been seen before – nor hopefully ever would be again. And, once the great and awful period of mourning had passed, the Oncaveat no longer chose facilitators with offspring to facilitate the crossovers; it was simply too great a risk.

Shasta was in no danger of becoming ineligible for facilitation through these particular means. Though no one _ever _spoke of it, she was a miracle to her people, one of the few Oncaveat to have escaped from captivity to the Jehnz-yi. Almost a year after her father's ship had been lost to Jehnz-yin capture, Shasta Accor had suddenly appeared in the outskirts of her tribe's territory on a small, stolen Jehnz-yin spacecraft. She was the sole occupant of the shuttle: the sole survivor of their vile oppressors' purging of her entire family.

She'd been in horrific shape: unconscious, near-starved, and missing her two first arms…not uncommon methods of torture as every Oncaveat knew full well. No one questioned what she had been subjected to: Jehnz-yin policy was standard across the board with regard to "lesser races" (as they so smugly referred to anyone besides themselves). It had taken the combined efforts of every healer in the settlement, as well as a few from close enough, sympathetic neighboring tribes, to keep her battered body alive. Even so, Shasta had hovered on the brink of death for weeks until, desperate, they'd bundled up her nearly lifeless body and arranged transport to the yearly summit. There, her remarkable tale of escape had been told to the gathering of senators and in the end, the facilitator chosen had been Benzas Cori. He had used his initiation into the link with Hedri to facilitate her healing.

It had been a miracle to behold, as anyone seated around that fire would always recall of the young girl's remarkable recovery that dark night. Cori had laid hands upon her still, scarred shoulders and the glow of remarkable energy had engulphed the young girl and the facilitator alike. Before the very eyes of the fascinated onlookers, her many and sundried injuries, the incredible weeping wounds had begun to recede, to close up and to heal until most had disappeared altogether. It had taken barely a few, silent, breath-taking moments, but Shasta had suddenly drawn a deep, ragged breath, opened her grey eyes wide and sat up. For most intents and purposes, she had been healed.

Her first arms could not be regenerated, and she would never again bear children, but Shasta Accor lived and became a symbol of hope to her dying people. What was more, even through the horrific experiences she'd endured, she was able to recover some semblance of the carefree, lighthearted young woman her neighbors remembered before her family's ill-fated venture to the rift.

She was their miracle. That the child she'd conceived in captivity must have died upon being separated from its mother was never spoken of: Oncaveat children could not live without the nourishment provided by their mothers until at least six phases had passed. Shasta had not been gone long enough for her unwanted offspring to have reached that age.

It was never spoken of, not by her, not by the doctors who knew the truth or the elders who had guessed from the snatches of conversation they'd overheard from the various meetings of the frustrated healers before Shasta had been bundled to the summit.

Accor herself never mentioned it. Not to anyone. She seemed to treat the loss of the child as a non-issue; if it ever bothered her, she made no indication of it…though some swore to themselves that her eyes clouded slightly whenever a child was caught up in his mother's embrace in the senator's presence…

"We've arrived," Halthos's rough, age-calloused voice pronounced from the doorway. His announcement had been necessary; neither of the two lovers had noted the telltale signs of the landing of their small craft. "Hopefully shielded by the storm, but for how long, no one can predict…"

Shasta stepped smoothly out of Yurros's embrace, noting with wry amusement that the healer's eyes were fixed stubbornly to the beaten, worn deck of the tiny ship. "We need only another minute before we've cleared the area." Her voice rang with incredible certainty, as it always did.

She locked eyes with Yurros. A moment passed, the significance of the look, the promises and gratitude to each other passing between them not lost upon either of them...or Halthos who did his utmost not to be caught staring. Shasta nodded her head, resigned to the fact that he had not changed his mind. "Arm yourselves," she commanded. "It's time."

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

The cavern was dimly lit and deserted. Dressed in his special tactical operations uniform, covered in black from head to toe, Chakotay, tricorder in hand, immediately confirmed the initial assessment with a three hundred and sixty degree scan of the surrounding area. Satisfied, he turned to his partner, who also wore a black jumper. Benzas did not wear the uniform itself but an adaptation of it, and one that had been specially created to accommodate the four arms of the Oncaveat form.

"Harry, do you still read me?"

"Yes Commander," Kim's voice acknowledged over the comm, the volume lowered to a discreet level. "Loud and clear. So far, so good. But there's still the chance that we'll lose you once you've entered the heavily shielded section where they're holding the captain…"

Chakotay stilled, visually checking over his gear and equipment, taking mental inventory of his uniform and all of the enhancements it provided as he took in the ensign's meaning. His anger, irrational irritation swelled and was barely kept at bay. "We can't risk taking out that generator and betraying our presence yet. The instant they realize we've come to rescue the captain, they're likely to kill her."

"Commander," the doctor's voice intruded into the conversation, sounding urgent and restrained, "you'll want to hurry. It looks like the Jehnz-yi are preparing to conclude their…session."

The terror surged in his breast, swamped out almost immediately by grim, determined sense of purpose. "Acknowledged. Chakotay out."

The human drew his weapon, automatically re-checking that the setting was the highest possible. Mentally, he reassured himself somewhat with the thought that if all went well, it should take them about twenty minutes to reach the room where Kathryn was being held. To do that, they'd need to "make" a few shortcuts (with the help of modified phaser beams), but Harry's work on the calculations of the stone and metal walls were accurate down to the last molecule. At least…they'd better be.

Chakotay looked to his companion. "You know the plan," he growled quietly but curtly, dark eyes glittering with barely contained malice and incredible fury. "Stay behind me. Don't make a sound. If you need to catch my attention, tap twice on my shoulder. Keep track of our position with your tricorder, and let me know the instant her life signs appear on that screen. She'll be the only blue blip there."

Benzas didn't hesitate. "Understood."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed, his breath already shallow, his body already tensed in combat stealth mode. His grip on the weapon tightened and he uttered a final warning. "And if you do anything…_anything_ to jeopardize this mission, Senator…if you so much as trip on a loose stone…I will kill you myself."

Benzas returned the hard stare and simply nodded. The human Chakotay was in great pain, tormented over the condition of his captain: the woman who laid unspoken claim to his fierce heart. The senator understood his anguish all too well. He did not take offense at the commander's words. Cori accepted his part in the operation…or rather, his non-part, really. He would play along as needed until they reached their final target: Kathryn. Once he reached her, he could ensure that his plan was put into effect. Until then, he was content to allow the human to lead the way.

"Let's go," Chakotay ordered, digging the heel of one dark boot into the thick dust littering the cavernous floor and turning about to face the tunnel-like corridor set before them. "And keep up," he tossed over his shoulder, setting a brisk pace as he moved forward into the darkness looming before them.

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

If rumors had abounded before the commander set off taking only a four man team to rescue the captain, the latest developments in an increasingly tense situation only added more fuel to the fire. Among the lower decks, there were far more questions than available answers. And although this was not strictly so unusual, amidst the strain and worry, those unanswered questions were becoming all the more maddening to the general crew.

Why hadn't there been a status report from the away team yet? Everyone down to even the lowliest of crewmen understood that communications were dangerous with the Jehnz-yi hunting so relentlessly for Voyager, but the senior staff was famous for working miracles of technological innovation when circumstance demanded it of them. If a missing captain in the hands of brutal torturers wasn't such a circumstance, then what was? And why hadn't Chakotay chosen more familiar members for his tactical team…crewmen like Ayala and Dalby, or Andrews and Rollins? Surely _they_ were better equipped to handle extracting the captain from hostile territory than the ship's operation's officer and an aging Oncaveat senator would be!

Most knew better than to engage in idle, grisly speculation during such desperate times. Unfortunately, the crew of Voyager consisted primarily of humans, and human nature refused to be entirely denied in the midst of the unsettling uncertainty looming over the ship. When faced with only stony silence from their leadership, even the most disciplined of minds couldn't help participating in hushed, whispered speculation…

Was the senior staff losing it? At the very least, Chakotay's mental state was being called into question after the "incident" with the Oncaveat leader. Many seemed to think that the first officer was walking a fine line at this point. After all, he hadn't slept in nearly a week – the bridge crew could testify to that, and sleep-deprived themselves, one or two had let slip this tiny detail in passing. And that was _before_ he'd departed on the rescue mission…

Eating seemed to be a thing of the past for the senior staff. And with Neelix gone, no one dared to brave the wrath of the irate officers and suggest a break for a decent meal. The uniforms increasingly hung from their commanding officers, and the tempers of said individuals were wearing startlingly thin. Combined with the increasingly odd orders filtering down from the bridge, the lower ranking officers of the general staff had begun to seriously worry. Was the senior staff running themselves into the ground to the point of impaired judgment?

Only the doctor could have said for sure, and he of course had been drafted into the rescue mission.

Why hadn't Neelix's status been released? Was he really, as some of the wilder rumors speculated, dead? Was the captain? Had the away team been sent not to retrieve her alive, but to return with her body for a proper funeral service?

Upon overhearing the last comment while rounding the corner in Engineering, Lieutenant Torres had become the second member of the senior staff to break someone's bones in the span of twenty four hours. A harried, thin looking chief pilot had been called to engineering (on a detour from his route to the bridge from sickbay) in order to mend the fractured wrist of Ensign Ashmore. In response to the medic's terse inquiry, Ashmore maintained that although his wrist _appeared_ to have been broken under the extreme force applied by a half-Klingon's full strength, the entire incident had been an accident: a simple misunderstanding.

The level look which passed between husband and wife over the ensign's shoulder was noted by a few, but the incident was accordingly reported as an accident in the daily logs. Ashmore refused to accept the offer to be excused from duty, instead opting to finish out his double shift at his station. After this, the verbal speculation ceased (in engineering at least), but the general mood of the crew was not significantly improved for it.

Ensign Paris returned to the bridge and no more updates were passed down from the command center for some time.

The captain had now been in the hands of the Jehnz-yin general for twelve hours. Although everyone knew that her ordeal was being broadcast for all to see, no one among them dared to disobey the commander's strict orders to disregard any and all subspace transmissions until otherwise notified. No one among them really wished to bear witness to the horrible suffering and humiliation of their adored and generally revered leader, but it still felt like a betrayal not to watch. Many just couldn't shake the feeling that by ignoring that transmission, they were effectively abandoning the captain when she needed them most.

On the bridge, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok appeared entirely unaware of the ship's dire morale crisis. He was anything but. Telepathically speaking, he was generally unable to read the thoughts of others without the aid of touch, but the unified emotion radiating from every single living being on the ship couldn't help but reach the sensitive Vulcan mind of the ship's acting captain. He knew perfectly well what condition the lower decks of the ship were living in. He was simply powerless to rectify the situation until Voyager's primary mission was completed.

And he was not at liberty to disclose the nature of the ship's primary objective just yet, but it certainly wasn't retrieving the captain from the Jehnz-yi, as most believed.

Absent the woman he had come to call captain, friend, and even (on days particularly devoid of logic) daughter, Tuvok's orderly internal world was somewhat besieged by unfamiliar uncertainty. He had calculated the odds of successfully rescuing Voyager's captain to be less than twenty-five percent, and the odds of her returning alive to be less than five percent. Not particularly confidence-inspiring statistics, but Tuvok knew better by now than to dismiss Kathryn Janeway's logic-defying propensity for beating the odds. If there was anyone in the cosmos capable of surmounting overwhelming levels of adversity, it was the enigma of Voyager's captain.

His respect for the woman knew no orderly bounds. He did not follow her blindly, or with the flush of hero-worshiping enthusiasm he knew she commanded from most aboard Voyager. But he believed in her ability, in her moral values, and in her rich command experience. She was a woman who had earned his loyalty and someone to be admired. For a human female, she possessed a strength of spirit which could neither be defined nor denied. To a Vulcan, this was most frustrating, but Lieutenant Commander Tuvok had ceased attempting to put his faith in her into the neat simplicity of words long ago. He simply accepted the truth of his belief in her and left it at that.

She had asked him to let her die, if necessary. The choice had been particularly troublesome: a human would have called it agonizing. She had asked him to support her decision to disregard the most fundamental principle of the organization they had both dedicated their lives to serving. Now she…and the commander…had entrusted Voyager to his care. And while he knew that Voyager's chances of survival were significantly decreased without her, without them, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.

The Oncaveat were suffering, suffering incredibly. They faced annihilation from an unquestionably evil race. His belief in the Prime Directive, on the whole, was absolute. The captain's decision, her self-accepted mission, violated the Prime Directive.

His belief in her was greater.

He'd supported her plan. He still supported it. The deception had been necessary. He regretted the lies of omission he'd been forced to maintain for the commander's sake, but it had been singularly imperative that he, Tuvok, remain aboard Voyager in order to complete the ship's primary objective. And so, despite the clear violation of protocol, he had encouraged the first officer to head the away mission under false pretenses that it was for the good of the rescue mission…

It wasn't. He and the captain must remain separated. If the master plan (boldly proposed by the captain at the summit) was to have any hope of succeeding, it was essential that he remain aboard Voyager until his part of that plan had been completed. It was regrettable, but also necessary that the captain be where she was at this moment. The captain's determined refusal to allow her chief of security to accompany her on the dangerous flight had made it clear to him that the time had come for the captain to play out her crucial role in the plan to deal a crushing blow to the Jehnz-yin military.

Voyager alone could not accomplish the task. Getting within striking range of the massive military base at Osalisk had proven impossible given the ship's currently weakened tactical abilities. Added to that, the high concentration of Jehnz-yin battle cruisers surrounding the moon of Osalisk made it doubly difficult to approach. The more maneuverable Delta Flyer, however, could. And it had proven able to do so without being detected. Unfortunately, the sheer firepower necessary to effectively disable the massively populated base was beyond the shuttle's capabilities…

It was not beyond the abilities of Hedri's race to effect total destruction of the satellite. So long as she and her brethren were provided with a focal point, a living being with which to commune, the Unani's remarkable manipulation of the molecules and atoms of subspace could effect the desired outcome. By using the very mechanisms which allowed the annual rifts to be opened through a facilitator's altered state of consciousness, a rift to Unani space could be opened…and closed before the organic material in transit had a chance to complete the journey. The result would be the complete destruction, the virtual crushing of whatever had entered into the rift.

But it could not be done without sacrificing the life of the facilitator.

It had not occurred to the Oncaveat before, and certainly not to the generally peaceful Unani. But Kathryn Janeway's combination of scientist and military strategist's mind had taken little time to come up with the ultimate solution to the Oncaveat's centuries-old dilemma.

The captain's plan was bold and it was borderline suicidal. But there was no denying that it could succeed. Given the timing, the centennial event of the Unani having enough energy among them to open two rifts simultaneously this year, it was almost perfect. One rift could be opened and used to finally disable the insidious Jehnz-yin military without sacrificing the opportunity to herd more Oncaveat to safety through the second rift.

He had not been able to argue the logic of her suggestion. Nor, to his dismay, had he been able to succeed in proposing an alternative solution which might accomplish the desired results with even remotely comparable success. With the spy plaguing the Oncaveat senate, using the Starfleet officers as facilitators was crucial to the success of the mission.

Tuvok had of course argued to facilitate the more dangerous rift, citing Voyager's need for its captain and her greater value to the ship than his own, but to no avail. As was typical of her, Kathryn Janeway refused to send a member of her crew into almost certain death in her place. She's merely listened to his arguments, smiled a smile of pure steel, and curtly replied that the decision had been made and was final.

Her plan was proposed, debated briefly, and accepted. She and Tuvok both were thanked profusely for their sacrifice. Only they two, the Unani and Benzas knew the true plan. To safeguard the information most effectively, it must remain this way until their goal had been achieved.

This meant deceiving the other Oncaveat Senators as well as Voyager's crew, including the senior staff. It was a safety measure designed to limit the chances of the Jehnz-yi becoming aware of the assault plan before it could be completed. The captain had made it clear to both men that no one on Voyager was to be made aware of their final objective…not even Chakotay. Tuvok had, of course, seen the logic in this decision as well.

He'd come to respect the commander. Not as much as he respected Janeway, but enough to admit that his initial misgivings concerning the merging of their two crews, Maquis and Starfleet, had been misguided. Her appointing of the former Maquis to the position of first officer had seemed unwise. Naïve. Illogical. He'd pointed it out to her on several occasions. She'd completely ignored his advice, the first time that Tuvok had ever recalled this occurring in the history of their working relationship. He had noted his objections in his daily logs, and set about discreetly preparing the Starfleet security officers under his instruction for the eventuality of the mutiny he had thought a certainty…

But it hadn't happened. The commander had proven himself, over and over, passing test after test until not even Tuvok had been able to question his loyalty…if not to Starfleet, than to her.

He was aware of the mutual attraction between the commanding officers. He alone knew Kathryn Janeway well enough to have picked up upon the signs she gave off almost from the onset of their journey. Tuvok had had enough confidence in her solid Starfleet training to give her the benefit of the doubt. He had never allowed himself to worry needlessly that her human feelings toward the man would interfere with her commanding of the ship. He had assumed instead that once the predicted mutiny occurred, Captain Janeway would do what was best for the ship regardless of any personal feelings she may have possessed for Chakotay.

When the mutiny hadn't happened, he assumed her infatuation with the former Maquis officer would fade naturally over time. And after the commander strayed from her side with the rogue Borg leader Riley Frazier, Tuvok felt assured that it would…as the first officer's infatuation for her would seem to have abated at last.

They'd proven him wrong there, too. They'd argued in the past, vehemently so, but always seemed to find their way back to each other in time. He had eventually come to accept the truth of their human connection, and the depth which that connection had ultimately reached. For better or worse, the hearts and souls of those two individuals were irrevocably entwined in his estimation. For that reason alone, he'd found it most unwise to inform the commander of the captain's plan to sacrifice herself for the good of the many.

But the Jehnz-yin decision to broadcast the captain's ordeal had taken the matter out of his hands entirely. Thanks to the general's disgusting display, the entire crew had been made aware of the captain's potentially imminent demise. And the commander had reacted most predictably: with admirable restraint, considering his strong personal feelings for her, but with predictable determination nonetheless.

There Tuvok had found himself in a particularly unique predicament: allow Voyager to lose both commanding officers, or risk giving his position away by protesting too much over the commander's decision to stage a rescue mission?

In the end, it had been the strong connection between captain and first officer which had provided the Vulcan with his answer. In recent months, the security chief had come to wonder if Voyager's commanding officers were indeed so linked by now as to be inseparable from each other…

Had anyone doubted the true, unspoken bond between captain and commander, one had only to witness Chakotay's behavior in the moments following the captain's appearance on the viewscreen to know how very deeply that connection ran. Tuvok had been astounded at the depth of Chakotay's disturbance. He even began to doubt whether the first officer would really survive the ordeal if the captain should prove unable to be rescued. It had taken less than thirty minutes for the Maquis warrior, the hardened and restless soul within Chakotay to resurface with a vengeance...as was most strongly evidenced by the "incident" with Benzas. Tuvok even speculated that the reemergence might be permanent if Kathryn Janeway died under her current brutal conditions. He had begun to suspect that the captain had been the key to the commander's settling down into the life of a Starfleet officer after all those years in the Maquis. Tuvok doubted his own ability to effect that same transformation in her absence. Certainly not after the mission was complete and it was revealed that he, Tuvok, had known of her intended sacrifice all along and had withheld the information.

Lieutenant Commander Tuvok had had serious doubts as to whether or not Voyager's command structure would be able to survive the loss of Kathryn Janeway. His doubts fed his decision to allow the commander to head the rescue attempt. It was a chance that would have to be taken. In the Vulcan's estimation, Chakotay's human guilt would consume him if he was not permitted to at least make the attempt to rescue her. And only the commander had the necessary training and life experience to have a shot at rescuing the captain from enemy territory. As a Maquis operative, he'd led more rescue missions than the chief of security had in all his years in Starfleet.

A strange humming began to echo through Tuvok's mind. He focused his thoughts, gathering them against the onslaught of what he knew was coming…

The Unani were a peaceful people. They had a genuine love for the Oncaveat and the few other races they'd encountered. They had a respect and a reverence for life in general which the Vulcan admired, and found compatible with his own. He found them to be noble allies.

He did _not_ find telepathic communion with them to be a particularly pleasant experience. Their chaotic thoughts besieged him, attacking his orderly, structured mind. They spoke to him now, managing to convey their message despite the disorder and Tuvok endured the brief mental barrage with stoic resolve.

He noted the ship's location, silently relaying Voyager's present coordinates to the Unani. They gave him final confirmation: it was time.

All eyes turned to him as he opened his mouth to deliver his instructions. "All stop, Mr. Paris." He ignored the pilot's incredulous look, satisfied that the helmsman was already entering the command despite his disbelief at the bizarre order.

The Vulcan rose from the command chair, hitting his commbadge with practiced movement. "Tuvok to Seven of Nine. Please gather the Oncaveat together and assemble them in Cargo Bay Two immediately."

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: The characters aren't mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T.

**Notes**: HUGE thank you to Cheshire for the beta help.

Chapter Twelve

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Under the bright spotlights of Osalik's largest military base, five figures emerged onto the open central field. The first figure's uniform identified him as a Jehnz-yin pilot, still wearing his helmet from the flight deck. The other four wore nothing but rags, and their double rows of arms revealed them to be Oncaveat. The four were chained together, bound by the ankles. They moved slowly, halting occasionally as they had difficulty keeping pace with the leader, who held the end of their chain in his gloved hands. Every so often, he seemed to delight in giving the end a fierce yank, causing them all to stumble into one another and fall. When that happened, he was quick to deliver fierce kicks with the ends of his heavy boots, encouraging them to rise quickly. It appeared to amuse him to watch them struggle to obey his orders with hands bound together in front of them, attached by a short lead to their tethered ankles.

The sentries on duty at their posts along the scattering of secure buildings watched from afar, highly entertained by the show. The sight was fairly common, and not so much a novelty as it was the soldiers' favorite moment: breaking in new prisoners, particularly Oncaveat prisoners, was their best source of amusement. They shouted their encouragement across the open fairway as the prisoners passed, making suggestions to the pilot who'd clearly captured them.

"If they're having trouble moving, string them up behind a hover vehicle and drag them to their cells! That'd teach them to walk, eh?"

"Try a whip!" One of the sentries guarding the supply holds jeered. "That always works!"

The pilot ignored his companions, though his treatment of the forlorn and beaten prisoners grew harsher as they neared the cellblock. The two sentries guarding the entrance reclined lazily against the doors, inspecting the approaching spectacle with expert eyes. As the ensemble approached, the guard to the left sneered, viscously jabbing the first prisoner with the end of his gun.

"Successful patrol then?" the second soldier drawled as his counterpart inspected the new arrivals. His eyes narrowed considerably as he counted the number of prisoners, then took in the rank markings on the pilot's shoulder. "You're stationed on site. These the ones we were told to look out for, then? The ones on the 'rescue mission'?" he sneered.

The pilot nodded. "Typical Oncaveat scum. Pleaded for their lives, as usual," he spat.

The soldier grinned, his wide, pointy teeth catching in the spotlight positioned above the entrance to the cell block. "They're lucky...or should I say…unlucky…that the general wanted them taken alive. We needed replacements for training the new recruits. The last few subjects are just about finished. Ready to be retired," he taunted.

The soldiers stepped aside, allowing the pilot to pass by with his quarry. The soldier who'd been leaning against the wall reached into this pocket, removing the security key and waving it at the sensor. The doors parted and the pilot entered, yanking the prisoners along behind him.

The first guard suddenly spoke up. "Wait a minute. Wasn't there supposed to be a woman leading them?" he demanded.

The pilot froze, then turned to his cohorts. For a moment, he was silent. The Oncaveat prisoners all tensed as one, before he finally answered through his helmet. "Didn't last long," he replied .

Both soldiers snickered knowingly. "Like that?" the first gestured to his fellow, elbowing him in the ribs. "He may be small for a soldier, but he knows how to handle a woman, apparently!"

His companion nodded, still laughing and shot the pilot an admiring glance. "Shame for us, though," he leered, taking pleasure in the snide looks he gave the miserable, devastated prisoners. "Bet she was good, too."

The second Oncaveat raised his eyes to the mocking soldier. They burned with obvious hatred. For his insolence, the soldier casually struck him several times across the face, not stopping until the man was brought to his knees. Then, as though nothing at all unusual had occurred, he turned to smile at the pilot. "But I'd be more careful with them in future. You're lucky the general already has a new toy, otherwise it would have been bad for you…you know he always gets first pick."

The pilot simply nodded his agreement, watching closely as the beaten Oncaveat struggled to rise immediately, but he did not look up again. The soldiers, after a few more leers and insults to the prisoners, finally stepped back to allow the doors to close. Having heard most of the exchange, the two sentries guarding the second entrance to the prison automatically moved to open the next set of doors and allowed the pilot to pass without question. One of them patted him on the back as he passed.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

Chakotay noted with some satisfaction that Benzas was at least keeping up. For such a large creature, he also seemed able to move with some measure of stealth, which made advancing along the ever-narrowing tunnels much easier…

Years ago, the tunnels had served to allow the Jehnz-yin soldiers open access to the nearby caverns and underground lakes they used for bathing. But with the advent of water producing technology, the soldiers no longer needed to visit the artificially unfrozen bodies of water, and the tunnels had been sealed…albeit poorly. By now, most military personnel had forgotten about their existence entirely.

Kathryn had noted the tunnels' existence while using the Delta Flyer's sensors to scan for a way to infiltrate the base and rescue Harry. She had been the one to dig through the last few meters of rock and reopen the most poorly sealed passage. From Harry's report, Chakotay knew that this same tunnel would now lead up and into a small breach at the very edges of the base's perimeter. The opening was tiny enough to permit the passage of one humanoid and not much else. It was all Kathryn had needed to creep onto the base and liberate Harry the first time…and as yet it hadn't been discovered. From Xi's earliest grumblings on the hideous broadcast, Chakotay knew the general and his men assumed that Kathryn had used transporters to appear on the base and to get Harry to safety. Though it would have been the logical place to look for a breach in their defences, the Jehnz-yi were not used to having to defend their base from outside infiltration. It wasn't something the Oncaveat had ever tried, as far as the commander knew. So the Jehnz-yi still hadn't detected the tunnel's newly-opened status, nor were they actively looking for it. They'd simply increased the output of their dampening field to compensate for Voyager's transporter technology, instead…

Chakotay halted suddenly, putting up a hand and signaling for Benzas to stop. The Oncaveat noted shadowy beams of light filtering around the commander's broad form and easily guessed the reason for the sudden stop: they'd reached the end of the passage.

He waited, reviewing the original instructions from the commander in his mind. It was here that the prisoners' cells would be located, and this would be their first stop along the way to recovering Kathryn. Chakotay planned to make his way into the heart of the compound and set time-delayed charges which would open the doors to the individual cells. It would be the first in a series of stops they'd need to make in order to sufficiently distract the Jehnz-yin soldiers from their ultimate goal…

A two-man team infiltrating the heart of a military base potentially crawling with enemy soldiers… If Benzas hadn't felt the singular determination coming off of the human commander in waves, he'd have been worried. As it was, Chakotay left little time for the senator to wallow in doubt.

The commander finished scanning the open space before him, and immediately input his results into the master schematic. The grid-like outline shimmered, then reformed on the small screen. To the commander's relief, the schematic he'd been using to formulate his assault plan had proven mostly accurate. The original, a product of Harry's memory and limited sensor sweeps from the shuttle, had been slightly off scale and lacking a few structures, but it was nothing that would force him to alter his plans…so far.

One structure, relatively central to the base as a whole, remained stubbornly impenetrable to even the most sensitive of his tricorder's scans… The building, though one of the major entrances to the Jehnz-yin stronghold, was too heavily shielded by the cursed dampening field…

"Kathryn is there," Benzas whispered. He pointed, his gloved fingertip pressing against the small square in question as he leaned over his companion's shoulder.

Chakotay's head snapped up. He turned abruptly, effectively shoving the senator back from him. "That's what I'm assuming…but how do you know? Did you detect her life signs?" he demanded, his voice an urgent hiss as he reached for the scanner Benzas held loosely in his palm.

Benzas released the tricorder without protest, observing as the intense light in the human's dark eyes sparked, then slowly morphed into that strange, feral darkness which had taken residence there since he'd learned of his captain's predicament.

Chakotay tossed the scanner back at the Oncaveat. "How did you know that?" he repeated.

"I can feel her," Benzas reminded him solemnly. And he could. Now that he was physically close to her, he began to feel the strength of their bond returning. With no effort on his part, she was again flickering at the edges of his consciousness…he could feel her fear. She was losing her fight, finally. Something even more hideous than that which she'd been subjected to already loomed before her now, but as yet he couldn't say what it was. He only knew that they were indeed running out of time. "I can feel her consciousness," he repeated, meeting Chakotay's gaze. Unflinchingly, the senator accepted the full measure of the additional hatred that flickered unmistakably on the tormented man's face. Benzas hadn't wanted to flaunt his connection with Kathryn in the commander's face, but he'd been left with little option. "That is the reason you've chosen me to accompany you, is it not?"

When the human only grunted by way of a response, Benzas decided that now was the time to clear the air between them…as much as he could, considering what he would have to do soon. "I know you resent having me here, Commander. I know that you would rather I were anyone else right now…"

"I would _rather _not be here at all," Chakotay interrupted with a snarl. He pressed back against the cavern wall, mindful enough to stay out of sight of the opening. He eyed the Oncaveat's silhouette without bothering to mask his contempt before pulling his pack off his shoulder and setting it on the ground. He began to rifle through the bag, removing several pieces of equipment as he did so. "I would _rather_ have my captain back on her ship where she belongs, not hanging in some torture chamber being humiliated and ripped apart piece by piece because she doesn't have to sense to let her crew protect her they way we're supposed to." He ran his hand over the precious medical supplies he'd spent a long hour learning how to administer, passing over them in favor of the headgear he sought. Yanking it free from the pack, he continued, "And I'd _rather_ you and your people had one tenth of the courage she has, and hadn't sent a woman worth more to her people than you could possibly imagine to die in your place, Senator…"

At this Benzas had reached his limit. He could take the man's misguided resentment – after all jealousy was a powerful emotion. He could testify to that. But the insult to his race he could not stomach. He stepped forward, a trace of outrage tingeing his hushed voice. "I _sent _no one, Commander," he scoffed. "It was her idea to facilitate this rift, and to head for the base to begin with. She volunteered. Twice. And even if she was a woman who could ever be _sent_ anywhere at all, I would not have accepted her sacrifice if there had been another way – but there wasn't. We _need_ this rift, Commander. Desperately. We wouldn't have…"

"_Needed," _Chakotay reminded him curtly, as he tucked the localizer retrieved from Neelix's shoulder into one of the secure pockets of his specialized jumpsuit. "There's no way to get her back to Voyager in time now. She's not opening that rift, Senator. Not anymore." He glanced up, his eyes heated laser beams that cut through the air between them with ease. "And you have only yourself to blame for encouraging her to go on this ridiculous little excursion in the first place. You should really take better care of your facilitators, Benzas," he finished coldly. "One would think you'd place a higher value on their lives."

This was what Benzas despised in Kathryn's choice. These were the qualities he deemed unworthy of her, displayed so openly now in the man before him. He flinched involuntarily as her fear grew, further angering him on her behalf, and offered Chakotay a glare of his own. The human's cold arrogance, his absolute belief that he knew what was best for her, despite the fact that the commander supposedly loved her... In Benzas's opinion, she could never be made truly happy by someone so stiflingly selective in his support of her. His eyes narrowed noticeably. "Value?" he echoed. "I, unlike you, value Kathryn enough to respect her right to give her life for a noble cause. And I, unlike you, have no desire to limit her independence simply for the selfish pursuit of keeping her by my side or for the sake of ego. You are angry because she did not confide in you, but given your reaction, I can understand why she felt she couldn't. Perhaps instead of condemning her for it, you might try supporting her decision for the selfless, courageous act that it was. Perhaps instead of striving to change her, you might attempt to accept her for who and what she truly is…"

Chakotay reached his limit. In a furious blur of movement, he shot upward from his crouched position and hurtled across the tunnel, pinning the larger man against the wall with surprising efficiency. "Listen to me, Benzas, and listen to me very carefully. I don't know what went on between the two of you, and frankly I don't care. It's really none of my business–"

"You're correct, Commander," Benzas interrupted just as coldly, diplomacy abandoned entirely. "It _is_ none of your business. But suffice it to say that I've come to know her very well these past few weeks, and I know she wanted to go on this mission. Nothing you or I said would have persuaded her otherwise."

Chakotay's lips pulled back into a snarl. "I know you _think_ you know her – and me – but you don't, Senator," he snapped. "You don't know a damned thing. _Of_ _course_ it's noble to volunteer to facilitate your rift; I'm not arguing that. But she headed directly into enemy territory in part because she's determined to rid herself of her damned, unfounded guilt for stranding us in this quadrant. She thinks she deserves to suffer for it, so she takes unnecessary risks with her life, hoping to purge herself of that guilt. Hoping to repay the 'debt' she feels she owes to us. This very minute she's being tormented…no…she's being _tortured_ – brutally. Ripped apart…obscenely violated by that pig of a general because of it. Yet even now, she's probably ready to die for what she thinks is to the ultimate good of her people – and yours. I know precisely what kind of woman she is. I know exactly how strong and determined and selfless she is. Hell, I love her, Senator. I'm not allowed to. I'm not supposed to, but I do. I can't help but love her. Those aren't words I've ever even said aloud to any living soul before, but right now it's a little late to worry about propriety. If she wants to give her life for a noble cause…one that's really worthy and necessary…well, fine. It's her choice, whether I like it or not. But this _isn't_ that cause. Not now, not this way. I'm not going to let her die like _this_, and if you can't understand that, then you really don't know the first thing about me or about her crew. And thanks to your deception, we may already be too late, but I will be _damned _if she suffers for one single second longer than she has to. So I tell you again: if you intend to prevent me from reaching her…in _any_ way…please believe me when I promise I will kill you and not give it a second thought."

Benzas gauged the level of intensity in his companion, the feral darkness and intense loathing radiating from him. He decided to try a different tact, oddly fearing for his life and for the success of his ultimate mission in that moment. "You don't understand what's at stake here," he pleaded softly, willing the man to listen through his amazing anguish.

Chakotay was unmoved. If anything, he was further hardened by the Oncaveat's strange admission. "No, I don't. But I'm not entirely stupid, despite outward appearances. If she's supposed to facilitate this rift for the Oncaveat aboard our ship, then she has no business being here in the first place. There's no _way_ you'd take that kind of a chance with one of your precious facilitators. It just doesn't make sense." He watched the flicker of apprehension in his opponent's eyes and swore softly. "You son of a bitch," he whispered. "There's more going on here than you've told me. I _knew_ it."

"I'm sorry," Benzas whispered, still not moving to escape from the forearm Chakotay had pressed threateningly across his throat to pin him in place. "But I couldn't…she asked me not to…"

"Don't worry," Chakotay snarled harshly. "I'm sure she knows exactly what your hidden agenda has been all along. I'm sure she agreed with it, too. Probably jumped at the chance to take on this dangerous and 'noble' assignment, whatever it really was. But unfortunately for the two of you, whether she believes it or not, she is _everything _to this crew…and yes, to me. Without her we don't stand a chance in hell of making it through this quadrant. So you'll forgive me if I don't roll over and let her die, violated and alone, simply because you, and she, have decided that it's for the greater good!"

There was a moment of thick, knotted tension as they stared each other down. Finally, seeing that there would be no appealing to the man and understanding it in spite of himself, Benzas inclined his head fractionally in deferment.

Chakotay didn't back down. He kept his arm in place, and relieved none of the pressure he was applying. "Now, as much as I'd love to break your nose again, Senator we are out of time. And, yes, with that dampening field they've adjusted to further thwart our communications and sensors, I _do_ need you. I need you to tell me where she is and what condition she's in. Once we step out of this tunnel and into range of that field, my equipment is going to be questionably effective, at best. But understand me here…you either give me your word that you'll obey every single order I give, right now, or I will knock you out cold and leave you here to fend for yourself. It's your choice, but I need your answer now. Are you with me or not?"

Once, he'd been capable of this kind of rage. Once, he'd known this kind of devotion. If he let himself, he knew he could be capable of it again…for Kathryn. Whatever else he may have thought or believed in, he knew how futile it would be to challenge a man in this condition. Benzas found that he could only nod.

He was immediately released and barely resisted the urge to rub his neck, raw from the pressure of the uniform's high collar grating against his flesh.

Chakotay bent down to seal his pack, hoisting it over his shoulder to secure it into place. Yanking down his ski mask, he activated the enhanced infrared vision eye piece which would compensate for lurking around in the shadowy areas of the base. He barely noted the Oncaveat mimicking his movements. He was also entirely unaware of his free hand moving to feel the reassuring outlines of the knife concealed at his belt but felt calmer for it, nonetheless. Aiming his tricorder steadily ahead of him, he noted the movement of two green dots, indicative of Jehnz-yin soldiers, finally moving an appropriate distance from their position. Their way was clear. He tapped his commbadge. "Chakotay to the Delta Flyer."

Static blared quietly before Harry Kim's voice could be heard at the lowest possible volume. "Delta Flyer here. We're still reading you, Commander, but for how much longer I can't say. They've definitely increased the output of that dampening field. You'll have to take it out before we can beam the captain out of there."

"Acknowledged, Harry." Chakotay paused, knowing what the ensign was waiting for before continuing, "Give us forty minutes. If the field doesn't go out before that, you'll know something went wrong. We'll likely be dead or otherwise incapacitated. In that event, your orders are to fire the full compliment of the Flyer's weapons at these coordinates." He met Benzas's eyes, satisfied at the full measure of acceptance he read there.

"Understood," was Harry's grim response. And Chakotay knew that he did.

"Good. From here on out, maintain communications silence."

"Aye, sir. And…good luck, Commander."

As the comm line chirped inactive, Chakotay almost…_almost_ mustered a tiny smile. He nodded to Benzas instead. "Let's move."

He stepped out from the darkness, trying to ignore the feeling of utter dread descending over him every time he thought of Kathryn in this place…and of what she must be suffering in every moment that passed. The last time he'd seen her image, she'd been unimaginably wounded already. Hanging limply from her bonds, covered in nothing but blood and bruises…dying. And still, they hadn't left her in peace…

Closing the anguish out, he successfully held it at bay only through years of practice and forced his mind to focus on the crucial task that lay ahead of him. The way was clear. His pace quickened into determined strides as he silently made for the shadowed shelter of the side of the nearest corridor, the prisoners' holding cells. Under the dim spotlights accentuating the hall of the military facility, Benzas's taller shadow appeared on the ground just behind his. Chakotay's hand still touched the hilt of his knife.

He would get to her. He would get her out of here, if it was the last thing he did.

And he was going to take pleasure in killing as many Jehnz-yin soldiers as he could in the process.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** The Oncaveat and the Jehnz-yi are mine… but the really good characters still belong to Paramount.

**Chapter Rating**: T because of some definitely adult themes.

**Notes**: Another HUGE thank you to Cheshire for her patient help with all the strategic advice! :P

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Kathryn couldn't think straight anymore. She could barely stay conscious, even with the way her heart pounded wildly in response to the strange alien drugs coursing through her circulatory system. She knew terror in a way she'd never thought to know it again…not since she'd been a prisoner of the Cardassians and they'd forced her to listen to Owen Paris's screams.

Garan Xi's claws were digging into her broken jaw, sending familiar needles of white-hot pain racing through her. His hideous face loomed before her, so close she could feel his nauseating breath against her bloodied lips, which he seemed to be studying with extra scrutiny…

She barely heard his words, could hardly register them by now. But somewhere, in her deepest rational mind, she knew what he was saying anyway: her time was up.

"I'm so sorry you couldn't be made to see reason, Captain," he whispered, the rasping hiss of his hated voice making her shiver against her will. His free hand had moved up to caress the side of her face with a softness she hadn't thought the Jehnz-yi capable of using. "I would have liked to have spared you this, you know," he crooned against her flesh. "Such a dignified spirit – such admirable defiance."

She had only minutes now, if that. It was almost time for the rift to open. Soon, she would feel Hedri's loving spirit flowing freely through her tortured mind and battered, broken body…

He still hadn't named their source.

She'd asked for the name, more than once, citing the obvious fact (to him, anyway) that she could do nothing to reveal the secret of the spy's identity, but Xi had only grinned at her, declining to answer. Hurling more insults, more vile threats calculated to tear away the last of her resolve and stamp out the last flickering flames of her resistance… It had been a last attempt at salvaging something more for the noble Oncaveat through her death.

"Such delicate, soft skin. You're lovely, Janeway." She didn't hear the words. She couldn't hear the words. She didn't want to hear the words. She was a Starfleet captain, and Starfleet captains feared nothing. "I didn't think so at first, but after the time we've spent getting to know one another, I've come to appreciate your strange form. It's weak," he continued, "pale, yes. And I must say I'm still convinced you look better this way, thanks to our…efforts."

The one face she'd been fighting, oddly, came to her now. It broke her heart that it was Chakotay's eyes, his warm, wonderful eyes that swam in her blurred vision now. She didn't want _that _image – of all images – in her mind while Xi…

"A work of art indeed. I wonder what sort of creation I might have made of you if I'd had the time…"

She heard little of the Jehnz-yin's taunts. Her mind had receded in self protection long ago, providing the bone-weary and drained captain of Voyager with at least some merciful measure of shielding, a buffer between sanity and the horrors of her current reality.

"How many of us do you think you will make it through, Janeway? _Captain?_ One? Ten? Twenty?"

Her stomach crawled and so did her abused, broken skin. Only minutes left…

He made a clicking sound in his throat, the rasping of laughter she'd come to despise and even, yes, to fear… "Even if we can't make it to the rift in time, at least I'll have the pleasure of knowing that neither will the Oncaveat aboard your vessel. We'll have Voyager, too, eventually. You can count on that. We'll have the Oncaveat you so valiantly strove to protect, and then what will your foolish defiance have gotten you?"

She hated the feeling of his hands on her skin, even more than she hated the insane levels of pain he'd managed to introduce her to over the course of these last twelve hours. She truly mourned that her last few memories in life…the life she'd been mostly proud of, until now…would be of him and the sensation of his hated claws on her body.

She hated _him_. Not just the Jehnz-yi as a society, not just the army of brutal, soulless soldiers as a mindless mass of destructive force…no, Kathryn hated _this_ Jehnz-yin most especially. She knew that she would relish seeing him burn, writhe…anything that caused enough pain, really. She knew that she would take pleasure in seeing him suffer, and it galled her. This, most of all, was evidence of his profound victory over her. That his people, that _he _had managed to so successfully warp her valued ideals, her precious philosophy in such a short period of time…

She would not regret his death, not even a little. It was that, she thought numbly, that would be her worst regret. That, and the distance that she'd so stubbornly maintained between herself and her first officer for all these long, lonely years…surely it mightn't have hurt to lower, to soften those barriers just a _little_…just once, perhaps…

"Have you anything to say for yourself, Captain?" pushed through her foggy consciousness somehow.

Despite her hatred, her venomous contempt, her all-consuming hatred which managed to sustain her throughout these hours of torture, she would give them a chance. One final chance – not for Garan Xi, certainly not for his sake – but because there were larger issues at stake, more souls at risk here than that one, blackened aura of the man standing so triumphantly close to her. Because she was Starfleet: she valued life above all else, and there were more lives involved than just Xi's… She'd give him one last chance to save himself…and her. "Will you…agree…to stop…pursuing…the Oncaveat?"

Her voice, so rusty, so raw from screaming, sounded nothing like, her but she knew he understood her halting speech by the incredulous leer he gave her. "When every last one of them is dead," he spat with a gleeful, loathsome smile. His sticky, veined tongue darted out to lap up the aging blood at the corner of her mouth. The burn of his foul saliva was hardly felt anymore.

He'd sealed his fate with those words, though he didn't know it. Blissfully unaware, he continued to stroke his knobby fingers over her cheek, smoothing the sweat-plastered hair away from her bruised face. "I'm going to enjoy this, Janeway," he promised. "And I look forward to seeing the expressions on your crew's faces when they see what's left when we've finished with you," he added ominously before mercifully releasing her.

The relief, as she'd expected, was short-lived. Turning to the ever-present guards, he intoned in an almost lazy voice: "Cut her down."

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

In the cell block, a lone Jehnz-yin soldier stepped through the doorway of a dank, solitary room. He was bored. He'd been on duty for almost a full shift, and the time was passing more and more slowly. After a moment, his shift partner moved in behind him, halting in the entrance and watching. In his hands, he held a small tray of food, the remains of a meal they'd consumed while on duty.

A lone figure cowered in the corner furthest from the door. The figure wore nothing; the rags that had once adorned its body had long since been shredded and lost, bit by bit. Amidst the grime and dried blood caking its dull blue fur, several insect bites could now be seen dotting its exposed skin. Four arms wrapped around its emaciated middle, though one of them stuck out at an odd angle, broken. As the light from the outside corridor filtered in around the second guard, huge, perpetually fearful eyes blinked back at the soldiers, unaccustomed to even the minimal lighting. A tiny whimper escaped into the silence. The first guard ignored the reaction, moving steadily toward the shivering figure with purposeful strides. He stopped just before reaching the figure, letting his eyes pass over his intended victim as he calmly removed his heavy, animal hide decorated uniform jacket and hung it over the empty chain link affixed to the stone wall just a few feet beside her.

Having made their final rounds of the holding cells for the evening, the two had mutually agreed to end their evening on a high note. They'd just come from a neighboring cell, where the low, keening moans were still emanating from their previous victim. The old man had been a prisoner for nearly a year; there was hardly anything left of him by now. He had not been very amusing to torment. He couldn't even scream anymore. Disgusted by his lack of resistance and left decidedly unsatisfied, the soldiers now sought entertainment of a different kind.

This prisoner, one of the general's many throwaways, had been in captivity for a shorter period of time. There was still some reaction left in her, which was unfortunate…for her, of course. It made her an increasingly popular target, especially since the other prisoners offered their captors almost no satisfaction anymore. It was no sport to torment creatures who couldn't respond to their abuse. Most of them only stared blankly, not even registering extreme levels of pain anymore.

The Oncaveat flinched back automatically; more instinct than reaction, but still, it was something. Enough to simultaneously annoy and amuse him, at any rate. He didn't bother hitting her; he was intent upon pursuing another course of action. Instead, he reached down and grasped a tangle of her dull, matted hair, dragging her to unsteady feet. She trembled uncontrollably, pulling back in fear. Knowing what was coming and that there was no way to defend against it.

He chuckled, his gruff, rasping voice echoing in the stone cell as he held her firmly in place.

"Come now. None of that." But his approving tone was at complete odds with his words. "Be good and we'll be nice, too. See?" he gestured to his cohort, who reclined lazily against the doorway, an evil smile playing upon his harsh features. He held the tray, displaying it for her to observe and the first soldier turned back to her. "Hurzi here has brought some food. Surely you must be hungry...it's been a while since you've had anything to eat, no?"

Though she hadn't yet reached a point of complete oblivion to her surroundings, there wasn't enough hatred left in the woman to even offer a token glare. Any real resistance in her had long ago faded into an almost apathetic acceptance of what her life had become.

But going days without food or water was commonplace for a Jehnz-yin captive. Her painfully slender form attested to this, and as the spicy scent of roasted meat overcrowded the usual stench and filth of her cell, her stomachs spasmed painfully. Even Jehnz-yin food, though much harsher on the digestive system, was an overwhelmingly tempting prospect. Her nostrils twitched automatically, perking up at the scent and she could even smell the half-full cup of ale they'd amazingly thought to include in their "offering". Weakened as her system was, just that small amount would probably be enough to dull her senses completely, but she at least knew better than to think they would ever let her taste a drop of it before their own appetites had been well satiated.

The decision was hardly a difficult one. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she'd been on the receiving end of the soldiers' attentions. It wouldn't be the last. And it wasn't as though she really had a choice, no matter her response. She was fortunate to be offered anything in return at all. The instinct for survival won out over fear, pride, and disgust. She dropped her eyes to the filth covered floor, mutely indicating her submission…just as they'd known she would. She only hoped it would be over quickly, and without too much pain.

The first soldier offered her a cruel, knowing smile she didn't see. "Good girl." He released his grip on her hair and patted her on the cheek. Without giving her a chance to prepare, he grasped her by the shoulders and shoved her firmly against the wall. Her back struck cold stone and she winced when her spine connected with the hard surface. He pressed against her, pinning her easily in place without much effort. If he noted the flicker of disgust clouding her averted eyes, he didn't acknowledge it. He did, however, smile at her automatic gasps and whimpers of pain as his groping claws began digging into her tender flesh without care.

The sudden clatter of metal striking hard stone resounded throughout the cell, accompanied by a strange, short and strangled gurgling noise. The tray had fallen to the ground, spilling its precious contents and skidding across the floor. Surprised, the guard tore his attention away from the object of his depraved intentions in time to watch his companion's eyes go lifeless as he dropped to the ground, where he lay unmoving. Before he could even fully process what he'd just witnessed, a dark figure was behind him. Strong hands were yanking him away from his prize, and he felt the cold edge of a blade slice into his throat without any further warning. The burning sear and the gush of warm fluid that followed was the last sensation he knew before the cold overtook him and he hit the floor, dead before he made impact with it. He never even caught a solid glimpse of his executioner.

Chakotay stooped briefly over the felled soldier and swiftly wiped his blade clean on the guard's sleeveless tunic. He turned to the terrified woman, who stood gaping at the spectacle before her. His face expressionless save for the feral determination flashing in his dark eyes, he snatched the dead man's discarded jacket from the hook and handed it to the woman, who'd drawn back from him instinctively.

There wasn't time for pleasantries. He made no attempt to reassure her of his friendly intentions. His heart was closed to the horrendous realities of her situation simply because it had to be. "Take it," he ordered, his voice hard and authoritative. As expected, she responded to his tone immediately. Flinching at the harshness of this strange man's voice, she hastily moved to obey him. Hands shaking, she wrapped the tunic awkwardly about herself, finding the sensation of cloth against her skin alien after all this time of going without it.

Her huge eyes flickered once more to the doorway, alighting with surprise as one of her own race appeared there, dominating the modest-sized frame and shutting out most of the light from the hallway. He also ignored her, but for a briefly conflicted glance over her scantly covered, emaciated form. Then he was bending over the first dead soldier, seizing the body in strong first hands and dragging it into the cell.

The alien spoke again, drawing her shocked attention to him with his urgent and clipped tone. "I'll have to lock you in here again. Stay quiet, and keep against this wall. In a little while, the door is going to blow open, along with all the others. When it does, take a left outside the cell door, then take the next two right turns. There's an open tunnel at the end of that corridor. It's not large, but it's wide enough to crawl through." He gestured to the felled men, now in a heap in the far corner. "Take one of their weapons, and get as many people as you can to safety. If there are any guards left, shoot them. Whatever you do, don't hesitate. Once those doors open, you'll have only minutes to clear the base before my ship is going to destroy it." He fixed his strange, hard dark eyes on her wide and astonished grey gaze. "Do you understand me?" he demanded curtly.

The instant she nodded soundlessly, he turned and swiftly exited the small cell. True to his word, the door clicked shut behind him and she heard the automatic lock turning. Shaking, her eyes passed over her new, motionless cellmates. She stared, seeing but not seeing, for a long time. Finally she forced her stiff limbs to propel her forward towards the soldiers. She stood over them for a moment. The gory details of the execution hadn't shocked her. She'd seen dozens of such displays by now.

Still not believing her remarkable good fortune, so long after she'd given up hope of rescue, she tried to come to terms with the concept. Freedom. It wasn't assured, but a dark stranger had just given her a chance at it, if his words could be trusted. She had a chance. It frightened her.

She still hadn't entirely convinced herself that she wasn't dreaming as she regarded the men who'd so callously abused her for months on end. Coming to a decision, she reached down and took the weapon from the topmost soldier. As she straightened again, she paused. She spit on him.

If this was a dream, it was a good one.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** The Oncaveat and the Jehnz-yi are mine…but the really good characters still belong to Paramount.

**Chapter Rating**: T…plus. Tread carefully if you are at all sensitive to blood or references of violence, please.

**Notes**: HUGE thank you to Cheshire for her patient help and all the strategic advice.

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

At his station, which was situated just at the beginning of the corridor leading to the individual prison cells, a lone Jehnz-yin soldier sat slumped over his desk. His broad chest did not move rhythmically up and down. He was completely still. A puddle of dark liquid spread out below him on the desktop, saturating the part of his face pressing there. The puddle no longer grew in size, but it had spilled over the edge of the furniture and dripped its way onto the floor, creating another pool of the same dark liquid between his stationary feet. Had the soldier's face been visible, it would have reflected that an expression of utter surprise was forever frozen upon his features.

The pilot stood over the soldier for a moment, breathing heavily. His hand – which still held the bloody murder weapon – was shaking. After a moment's pause, the pilot used the shoulder of the victim's tunic to wipe off the dark purple liquid staining the blade before tucking the weapon back into his own pocket.

The Oncaveat had huddled together, motionless throughout the entire act. Now, the second and youngest man spoke up through his freshly bruised mouth. "Take his weapon, too," he directed quietly. "We'll need as many as we can carry to make it out of here alive."

The pilot stopped in mid-turn, having been taken by surprise at the suggestion, but quickly saw the logic in it. He snatched the soldier's weapon from its holster, muttering something in Oncaveat about not trusting priests capable of giving sound, strategic tactical advice.

The massive tension relieved, at least for the moment, the second man grinned from ear to ear. "The same can be said for senators who can so convincingly abuse their followers."

The first Oncaveat in the line wheezed into quiet laughter. His grey-furred chest shook with amusement, and he regarded the pilot with admiration shining clearly in his brown eyes. "Quite sadistic you were with those boots, yes, you wonderfully clever girl!" Though excited, his voice was a hushed whisper like the others'. The danger hadn't yet passed, somewhere, there were still guards patrolling the corridors that lay ahead of them. "I always knew you were bright, but…stars, I never imagined this would work so beautifully. I thought we were finished for certain until you came back at him with that answer!"

The fourth prisoner stepped free of his shackles, handing the key to the next in line. A grin on his face, too, he added his opinion to the conversation, "'Didn't last long', indeed! Sheer brilliance!"

The third Oncaveat prisoner, a wizened white-furred old man, bent down to remove his chains with some difficulty as the pilot tossed the stolen weapon at the second man in the line. He caught it in his already freed hands before turning to aid his elderly companion. The pilot watched them all, reaching up and tugging at his helmet. It came off in one pull, spilling a shroud of long, milky white hair over the shoulders of the pilot's uniform, and a quiet, feminine laugh echoed throughout the corridor. "Surprised myself with that one."

Senator Acor pulled at the thick scarves that had been holding the large pilot's helmet in place. Her hands were shaking. The smile had already faded from her tawny, faintly scarred face. "I'd like to say you shouldn't have doubted me, but I was worried, too, believe me." She frowned. "Lucky I remembered that line at the last minute…"

Silence fell among the four as they witnessed the uncharacteristic doubts play across their leader's face. The momentary elation of having succeeded in the first phase of their plan had passed, and the real, precarious nature of their mission's success set in with a vengeance. The three older men pointedly averted their eyes in an effort to allow her to collect herself. Yurros stepped forward to take her free hand, which was fluttering near her neck as she compulsively twisted the end of one of the thick grey scarves without realizing it. At his touch, she stilled and met his warm eyes questioningly.

_You knew this would be difficult_, he told her, speaking telepathically in order to spare her further embarrassment in front of her tribesmen.

For just a brief moment, she was unguarded. She was honest with him. _None of us have ever done anything like this…it's a miracle we've made it this far. I nearly killed myself escaping from a place like this once. One simple remark from that pig, and I froze up…_

_You __**hesitated**_, he corrected firmly.

Her eyes flashed anger at him. _We almost __**died **__because I hesitated! What if that happens again? I'm not fit to lead this mission._

Yurros regarded his leader with a grave expression. _That isn't true; you may not have infiltrated an enemy camp before today, but you are the only known Oncaveat in our history to have escaped from one, _he reminded her.

_That was sheer blind luck! We took too long in getting here…even if we can find her in this maze of cells, we can't get her out in time to use the rift. I don't know what I was thinking bringing us here in the first place!_

He was neither cowed nor afraid that she was going to fall apart. So long as she focused upon her anger and her never-ending sense of duty to her people, he was confident that she would weather this storm, as she had all others. The priest was only glad that she was allowing him in at all. With a wry smile he was thankful she couldn't see, he reflected that it was when she _stopped_ yelling at him that he would worry. He took her well-padded shoulders, and drew her forward into his embrace despite her stiff resistance. _We are here because_ _you could not in conscience stand by and do nothing while the first friend we have had in centuries suffers on our behalf. We may be too late to open the rift this year, but we cannot take the chance that __**he**__ could still manage to get there. We must do all that we can to ensure that General Xi does not get his hands on the information she possesses._

He'd fed her own argument back to her. Those were the exact words she'd used to justify her unilateral decision to make the rescue attempt on behalf of the entire Oncaveat race in the first place. Recognizing them, she relaxed into him with a small smile of admiration. _We could die_, she reminded him. _Say what you will, but it was pure good fortune that we got in at all. _

_Yes, _he admitted._ But now that we have, we must press forward. Each of us is ready to die if it means the chance of safeguarding our people. As you are. _

A moment passed, and Yurros could feel her mustering her fantastic resolve. She stepped back from him and he let her without protest. "There isn't time for this." She spoke aloud, more to herself than to him. Squaring her small shoulders, she bent to retrieve the stifling helmetthat would conceal her identity and put it back on. "Someone will come looking for him eventually and discover what we've done. We have to move."

And with one deep, steadying breath, she moved forward into the adjoining corridor, leading the way for the rest of them.

They followed without hesitation.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

He'd given her two hours, initially. That was the longest he'd have bet on her being able to withstand his widely renowned skills of persuasion.

She'd somehow blundered her way into breaching the security of his most prized facility and she'd snatched two of his newest playthings right out from under his nose. In the process, she'd managed to both draw the attention of his meddlesome, half-breed son and to embarrass Xi in front of him. He'd resolved to make her pay for that…slowly and excruciatingly.

He'd hated Janeway on sight. At first glance, he'd been grudgingly admiring of her sheer audacity – almost as much as he'd been incensed by it. He found her unwarranted arrogance personally insulting. The confidence was etched plainly on her smooth alien face, despite the fact that she was of a lesser race…despite the fact that she was worse, a _woman_… She'd stood before him, unafraid – as though she truly mistook herself for his equal.

He'd never tortured a woman for information before. That wasn't to say he hadn't tortured them…when they were available. He'd broken plenty of them down for the sake of his own personal amusement. But as far as interrogation went, he'd only had experience with Oncaveat scum and enemies of the state; they were all he was usually given to break…day after day, year after year. And he'd always been successful in that endeavor. He'd had no reason to doubt his success with Janeway. How could any woman, weak as they were, subservient as it was in their nature to be, hold up under his mighty wrath when so many of his own soldiers cowered before him like dogs? He'd given her two hours, and he'd thought himself being generous at that. Had he not been forbidden to disfigure her permanently, he'd have given her even less time before she gave in.

He'd laughed at her. He'd taken one thorough, hard look at her frail body, and in his mind she was as good as broken even before he ordered her strung up to the posts. He'd known he wouldn't have very long to wait before her prideful quips would turn into pleas for mercy that would echo throughout his main interrogation chamber. He thrived on the power of holding his victim's life in his hands and in watching the cold, hope-destroying realization set in that relief wasn't going to be forthcoming…

He'd given the human captain two hours…and _twelve _had passed. Garan had gone from raging impotence to fury and back again. With every moment that passed, he'd seen the glory of finally breaking an Oncaveat facilitator and accessing the lush planes of Unani territory slipping from his grasp. In the last hour, he'd had to completely resign himself to the unpalatable fact that this strange female had managed to thwart his plans.

She'd proven him wrong on all counts. The fury he'd experienced as she continued to hold out even when the pain had her lapsing into sullen silence had driven him onward to escalating heights. He'd expressed his rage with a vengeance, using her pale body as an outlet for expelling his anger until he'd finally had to admit that his usual methods were not going to be successful. And as his rage finally faded into grim acceptance, his hatred for her only escalated.

This had become personal, now. It no longer had anything to do with the information she possessed. This was about breaking her…proving to her, to himself, to everyone watching that he was in fact superior. He would prove that to her very shortly, and he knew just how to do it. It would be simple; he was a fool to have waited so long in the first place. Of course he was superior. Now, before she finally bled out all over the stone floors of his interrogation chamber, he would show her how ridiculous it was to pretend otherwise…in ways she couldn't possibly dispute.

She'd given him little tastes of victory…small, tiny glimpses into what it would feel like when he finally managed to crush her prideful spirit entirely. He'd made her scream out in pain, even when she'd bitten down so hard on her own lips that she drew blood in an effort to contain her outbursts. It had pleased him, until he realized that her occasional cries and sporadic screams were involuntary: a direct physical response to specific stimuli. Her odd eyes were devoid of the despair and the acknowledgement of defeat he so yearned to see…

Never had she given him the benefit of seeing her insufferably proud resolve waver. Not once had she pled for her life, or asked him to stop. Janeway had held onto her dignity, and throughout it all, she still managed to make her contempt for him known through the heat of her glare. It had baffled him, for a long while, and Xi had been sent scrambling to come up with a way to break her. He'd tried using her crew, to which she was so obviously sentimentally attached. He'd lied to her, painted gruesome tales of having captured her vessel. He'd gone into elaborate and painstaking detail in describing what lay in store for each of her individual followers. Using details of the few he'd personally observed from the initial communications with the ship, he'd tried to convince her that he had them all in custody. But she hadn't believed him, and he'd been forced to assume that the humans, like the Oncaveat, had some telepathic bond with one another that was still allowing her to communicate with them…

Twelve hours later, he'd finally found the key to breaking her. Ironically, it was the sheer humiliation that she hid most poorly. Try as she undoubtedly had, Janeway couldn't help visibly recoiling from his personal, intentionally cruel explorations of her alien skin. It had taken this long to realize that what he'd intended to save for after she'd been broken…what he'd intended to be a final insult added to injury...might have been the key to breaking her after all. Ironically, it would be the insult which defeated her, and not the injury.

He stared at her. All in all, he was pleased with his handiwork. She didn't have long left now. There was no questioning that her small, battered body was going to give out soon. And though the thought of it brought him great comfort, it wasn't enough. He had to break her down completely before she drew her last, cursed breath…he could not stomach anything less.

She sagged, lifeless as her body relaxed the brief fraction allowed by her bindings. Xi moved forward, deliberately scratching the tip of his index claw along the edge of an open whip mark across her chest. He heard her sharp intake of breath and smiled. She was close. So close. He could feel it. This was the longest respite he'd afforded her yet, but the general wanted to give her time to allow her mind to work against her…to allow the words, the promises he'd begun to whisper into her ear to fully sink in. Again he noted how she couldn't contain her slight shudders of obvious revulsion. It was only in the last minute or so that she had begun refusing to meet his eyes, and that pleased him immensely.

He could have ordered one of his men to relinquish his knife for the task of cutting her down, but he opted not to. These four had served him faithfully. He would not deny them the trophies they'd each collected along their standard issued weapons: the traces of her alien blood leftover from the incisions each blade had caused. She was the first of her race to be claimed by the Jehnz-yin military (or so the official record would reflect), and a supposed leader of her clan. Her blood would fetch an enormous value on the open market. No, he would deny his men their well earned compensation. Not when the wait was so obviously helping him to wear down her defenses at last…

With growing anticipation, he waited patiently for the requested blade to be produced. He placed his oiled, clawed hands on either side of her scarred waist and smiled at the way she was now deliberately keeping her gaze focused anywhere but upon him. He continued whispering, knowing it wouldn't be long before he tasted victory.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: The characters aren't mine. Wait, Benzas is mine. The Oncaveat and the Jehnz-yi are mine… but the really good ones still belong to Paramount. Damn.

**Chapter Rating**: T plus, maybe. Definitely some adult themes. I'll give you a small blood warning, too.

**Notes**: Again, I'm going to thank Cheshire profusely...for reminding me in the nicest possible way to take my happy pills before posting (it's bad if I don't)...and for all of her other beta work, too. :D

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

As the harsh reality that she had reached the absolute limits of human endurance swept over her, Janeway was beginning to panic. She knew it, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She no longer had the energy required to contact Benzas, and his reinforcing presence was sorely needed right now. Trying to force her exhausted brain to function properly was an herculean effort in itself. The constant pain made rational focus next to impossible…

The rift wasn't opening. _Why?_ She began to wonder. There'd been no sign of Hedri, though Kathryn was sure it was long overdue by now… She'd counted on that. All her hopes had been pinned to the reassuring knowledge that blessed relief was only precious moments away…yet nothing was happening. She was still in the interrogation chamber. She could still feel the pain; it wasn't lessening. Even the fortifying images of her beloved crewmen were becoming harder and harder to conjure. She could still taste the blood in her mouth, still smell the peculiar, ominous mixture of her blood combined with the scent of others' that had been spilled in the room. Worst of all, she could still see Xi and his men. She tried desperately not to focus on his words, but she was failing in that effort, too. Eventually, she came to a horrifying conclusion…

She'd been wrong about the time; her tormented mind had lost all sense of the accurate measurement of its passage. Her brain, despite decades of disciplined training, was reverting to primal coping mechanisms in her last moments of sanity; it was lying to her. Trying to reassure her through her agony. 

It had convinced her that she had much less of the general's horrific abuse to endure than she really did.

What was left of her heart sank at the cold realization that her judgment of the passage of time could no longer be trusted. Surprisingly, even this utter devastation offered a small sliver of consolation, for Janeway far preferred this explanation to what had become her new greatest fear. It was better to have been betrayed by her own mind than to have to accept the crushing possibility that her body had been damaged beyond the point at which it could facilitate a rift at all. Because if that was the case, then she would have to suffer through the worst of the general's attempts to break her very soul, and she would have to do so with the knowledge that her entire ordeal had been in vain.

If that was the case, then Garan Xi had indeed won.

She felt cold hands encircle her waist and tried to shut out the disgusting suggestions being continually whispered to her now. If only they didn't have translators good enough to allow her to understand him…if only the depraved bastard hadn't stopped hurting her, no less. If he'd just kept on a few moments longer, she probably would have passed out. Much more blood loss, and it wouldn't matter that they'd tried to somewhat heal her to prolong the agony. It wouldn't matter what the hell they'd given her to keep her awake, in spite of the toxin she'd purposefully ingested to induce unconsciousness… But he'd stopped just before inflicting the crucial injury and now she could only hang limply. Waiting. At least when she'd been taking each blow, her muscles had jerked back automatically: jostling her existing wounds enough to create a haze of fresh pain that filtered out the worst of those words.

Now, not even the constant throb of her pounding head or the agony of her broken leg was able to block out his taunts. The images he so skillfully conjured were penetrating her shield of indifference. They were cracking her resolve. She'd stopped mentally kicking herself for not maintaining better control over her reactions long ago. There was nothing she could do to change it at this point, but obviously she'd given too much away. Sometime during his quest to discover which parts of her body were most sensitive to pain, she must have betrayed her weaknesses to him.

Janeway thought she'd been prepared for this eventuality. Voyager's first glimpse of Xi's race, aboard Benzas's ravaged ship, had been demonstration enough of Jehnz-yin policy toward their enemies. She'd been well aware of the risk, and she had accepted that risk.

She just hadn't thought she'd have to be conscious for it.

Even this she could have found a way to endure…somehow…if only she could be assured of the ultimate success of her mission and the well being of her ship. But the fear that she had failed to accomplish her goal, perhaps on both accounts, was rapidly closing in on her.

She could no longer look him in the eyes. To keep whatever may have remained of her sanity, she focused on the wall, the floor, or closed them. It was the first acknowledgement of her defeat and it killed a small part of her to have to give it to him. Her body was beginning to shake uncontrollably though whether from shock or fear, she couldn't say. She only knew that she hated displaying yet another sign of weakness before him.

He noticed, and raised his voice for all to hear this time, but he did not step back from her or even remove his hands from her waist. "You're shivering, dear. Are you cold? Don't worry. I'm sure we can figure out _something _to warm you up, Janeway."

In that bitter moment, she decided the laughter was the worst of all. Until he brought his left hand up to forcibly turn her face to him, that was…

"Or perhaps as we're getting to know each other better, I should call you by your first name now?"

Janeway closed her eyes tightly, refusing to see the mocking grin on her tormentor's face as she fought to keep her composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.

Rarely did she allow anyone to address her so personally. In almost five years, she'd given only one person on Voyager permission to call her by her given name. That person always spoke it softly…with reverence almost…even when he was angry with her. That person could always be trusted to treat her with respect. The man standing so triumphantly before her now, however, would only use it to intensify the violation he intended to inflict upon her. The unwelcome comparison between the two men was nothing short of hideous, and she could not stomach the thought. "Don't," she growled instinctively, before she could stop herself.

Another mistake. Another lapse in control. Janeway realized it, a split second too late…

Xi's soft, rasping laughter chilled her to the core. "Yes, I think I will," he decided, pointedly running a thick thumb along her bruised cheekbone as he continued to hold her face towards him. "_Kathryn_."

She flinched, recoiling instinctively as though he'd physically slapped her.

Xi smiled.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

The man in the special operations uniform no longer had an identity. He could scarcely be called human. He was instinct, raw and primal.

Reason, cognitive thought, and language...all of the so-called finer components of sentient life remained intact and working within him. But the niceties, the luxuries of that same state of being were shed. Compassion. Remorse. Doubt. All were expendable, and so they had been expended. There was nothing but purpose; he knew nothing but the objective. The objective was to find her. To free her. To get her back to Voyager, or to die trying. Anyone and anything that stood in the way of the objective would be eliminated by the quickest, most efficient means possible.

And it was.

Benzas Cori watched in amazement, stupefied at the transformation taking place before his very eyes. He watched Voyager's first officer take out one Jehnz-yin soldier after another, never hesitating, except when the tricorder he held urged caution. Those times, the commander fell silent and flattened himself against the stone walls, meshing into shadows and making himself all but invisible to the enemy. Until the last possible second, that was, and by then, it was too late for the unsuspecting soldiers to do anything about it. They met swift and sudden death at the hands of a dark stranger's blade. Surprise was always the last expression on their gruesome faces as they slid, motionless, to the ground.

Benzas made himself useful by cleaning up after the man he followed: dragging the evidence of the commander's handiwork into unoccupied cells as they moved. One keycard opened them all, and after the first soldier had fallen prey to the commander's merciless weapon, the two men had open access to the cells. They made tidy little hiding places for the bodies the human was quickly amassing as they made their way through the prison facility.

Prison was an inaccurate term, Benzas thought bitterly to himself. "Torture facility" was more like it. The few live prisoners here were barely living souls anymore. Most would be dead within days, and death would be a blessing. He'd seen it all before, first hand, but it never ceased to horrify him. He thanked the stars once again that, thanks to Kathryn's amazing sacrifice, his people's deliverance from the Jehnz-yin military was at last close at hand.

"_Yes, I think I will." _

Benzas tripped suddenly, almost stumbling right into the back of the human he was so closely following. The hideous face of the Jehnz-yin general loomed mere centimeters from the senator's. He recoiled, shocked. Felt the bile rise in his throat. Pain exploded inside his skull, and he had to gasp for air. His side was on fire, burning: an open wound. His leg…oh _stars_ his leg throbbed like a hundred insect stings. So did the left side of his jaw, as clawed fingers pressed firmly into it, holding his head in place.

"_Kathryn_," the general taunted, his hot, rotting breath caressing Benzas's furred face and making him even more repulsed than he already was. _"Shall we find out if that fair skin of yours is as sensitive to the rest of me as it is to my tongue, Kathryn?"_ He felt hands creeping steadily, fingers pressing relentlessly into places they shouldn't…and more pain there, too. Laughter. Trying to maintain his dignity, to remember his Starfleet training…his command training. Hopelessness washing over him, closing in on him, as vile words painting graphic images were continually whispered at him. Chakotay's face, not as it was now, but across a small worktable. Younger. Smiling. Holding his hand. Forever at his side…making his burdens lighter.

He'd lied to him. The last time he was ever going to see the man who was everything to him, and he'd _lied_ to him…

Benzas had to force himself to snap out of it at the last second before he screamed aloud. He forcefully severed the bond and, as he struggled to breathe normally again, his vision was once again his own.

The unexpected linking had taken him by surprise, to say the least. He'd been deliberately closing his mind to her, unable to risk letting her know how close he and Chakotay were. He'd sensed her weakening state hours ago, and he couldn't take the chance that Kathryn would give them away, either through desperation or through the sheer delirium of her pain.

The bond had never been _that_ strong before. Not with her. But he'd been in her thoughts…had just seen through her eyes without any conscious effort on his part. The senator had been one with her. That only happened with a true bondmate. He'd fully realized the honor she'd done him when she'd asked him to call her Kathryn…and the personal insult Xi was dealing her by assuming the privilege in spite of her wishes was a damning indication of what was to come. There was no way he could continue to see what was coming through her eyes, feel what she felt, and still maintain his sanity for long enough to reach her. And if he didn't reach her in time…

Stars, though, but he didn't know if he would be able to handle seeing the state she was likely to be in when they found her. He was fairly certain the commander couldn't…

At that moment, Chakotay – or the man who had been Chakotay – held up a hand, slicing crisply through the stale, artificial air and catching the Oncaveat's immediate attention. Benzas froze, still trying to catch his breath, and peered intently as the human fell back against him, just short of turning the corner into the main hallway again. The commander took Benzas's readout from his loosely clenched fingers and set his own tricorder right next to it. He frowned, his artificially darkened features leaving little creases in the black camouflage smear across his face as he looked up from the screens. "Have you ever known the Jehnz-yi to allow their prisoners free reign of a prison facility?"

Still flustered, Benzas only stared at Chakotay, not understanding.

The human repressed the urge to curse. Benzas wasn't entirely useless, but he was close. Used to having the likes of Ayala or some of the other, more seasoned Maquis at his back, Chakotay was lamenting the real loss of someone who didn't need to be told every little thing in order to get his meaning. He waved the tricorder under the Oncaveat's beaked nose. "There," he growled quietly, "those red blips. They're Oncaveat, and they're moving this way. But there's no Jehnz-yin guard with them. What do you make of it?"

He had no idea. Under normal circumstances, Benzas could have at least checked with the others; they might have been able to shed some light on the question. Shasta in particular could have been useful in answering Chakotay, but there was no way the Oncaveat was going to risk opening himself up to the link now. Not only could the spy alert the military to the rescue mission but, more importantly, Benzas wasn't even entirely sure he could keep Kathryn out of his thoughts for very much longer…

He had to. Until they reached her, he had to keep her out of his head. The senator shrugged, keeping his eyes carefully fixed to the small screen. "I'm not sure, Commander," he whispered miserably. If he told the human what he'd just experienced…what Kathryn was so very near experiencing, he wasn't sure he'd survive being the bearer of that news. He kept silent on the issue.

But he still couldn't shake the sensation of hated hands, claws travelling over his exposed flesh.

Chakotay did curse this time. He swept the senator back against the wall, completely oblivious to the way the large man flinched under his touch. He held up one finger to his lips, indicating for silence, and waited. The four life signs were inching closer; in a moment, they would walk right by the corridor in which the two men stood waiting. If the Jehnz-yi had found a way to compensate for Voyager's scanning equipment, then there would be at least one of those guards with the Oncaveat prisoners. He kept his hand on the hilt of his knife, which was already drawn and held ready. This time when he felled the Jehnz-yin soldier in his path the commander would take more than the soldier's life. He was going to use the basic likeness of the human and Jehnz-yin forms to hopefully enable himself and Benzas to fool the rest of the soldiers they encountered into allowing them access to the main interrogation building. To do that most effectively, Chakotay was in need of a Jehnz-yin military uniform. He knew the soldier approaching them now wouldn't mind lending his uniform to the cause.

Dead men rarely objected to much of anything.

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: See…all the chapters before, please

**Chapter Rating**: T plus, maybe. Definitely some adult themes.

**Notes**: It's short, but I didn't want to leave you with nothing; some of you can get a little testy when I do that. :P Thanks again to Cheshire for reading through this.

Chapter Sixteen

* * *

Shasta had become used to the sensation of her hearts beating in rapid, staccato rhythms. She was used to the stifling heat of the helmet, insulated by the warmth of the scarves holding it in place. Had the Oncaveat been capable of sweating, her skin would have been soaked in perspiration. The senator's mouth remained open, her breath coming in shorter, shallower gulps as she led her followers down the main corridor of the Jehnz-yin prison. As she did so, she fervently wished that Jehnz-yin detention facilities…and military bases…weren't all so similar in structure.

She forced her mind to focus on their mission. So far, the five of them had managed to open several cells, but most had been empty. One had held an Oncaveat male so battered he'd been on death's door already. He hadn't been conscious, and no amount of medical attention could have saved him. He only lay on the floor, barely breathing, his insect-ridden flesh so scarred and mutilated it had been difficult to identify his race, much less to determine which tribe he belonged to. An attempt to reach his consciousness by establishing a link with him had failed, which told Shasta the unfortunate creature was not a senator and had never been a facilitator. It wasn't a surprise, of course, but it had deeply saddened her to know that there was no way to determine the man's identity. He would die here in this torture chamber, and none of his friends or family would ever know of his dismal fate – if there were any friends and family left to survive him, that was. It was entirely possible that he was the last of his line.

Not knowing whether or not to trust that he'd be left in peace for his last remaining hours, they'd swiftly agreed to allow the man to slip into the next life a bit more gently. One of Shasta's scarves had been produced from beneath the stifling helmet to cover the man's mouth and nostrils, and after only a minute or so his laboring breathing ceased and he was entirely still.

The senator felt assured that it had been the kindest thing she could have done for him. There was no remorse in her heart over what she had done, and she knew her kinsmen felt the same way.

Now they headed deeper into the prison, the main corridor strangely deserted of Jehnz-yin guards so far. They were thankful for it, but it only heightened the sense of anticipation to know that there had to be guards lurking somewhere nearby, and that confrontation with one or more of them was becoming more and more likely.

Shasta paused just before reaching the next cell block, listening carefully for any signs of movement. Behind her, everyone else stopped also, and collectively, they all held their breath.

She heard nothing. Not a single sound. Exhaling softly, the senator moved forward and, with a wave of her hand, urged her group to follow her lead.

She rounded the corner, weapon held out before her.

_See? I told you you would manage. She's here somewhere…we'll find her._

She turned to give Yurros a smile he wouldn't see but would feel nonetheless, and it was the only thing that saved her from having a blade slice cleanly through her throat.

Chakotay felt the small guard shift too late. His one-armed grip around the soldier's shoulders was jostled by the man's sudden movement, and the commander was thrown off balance for long enough to be tackled by a blur of furred arms and legs. He was only stunned momentarily, and he could tell by the fact that he wasn't already dead that his attacker wasn't someone to be particularly wary of. Ducking his shoulder, the commander simply continued the tumble to the hard floor, throwing his assailant to the ground. Chakotay rolled himself off to the left in a twisted summersault, gathering his feet under himself to rise…and the business end of a Jehnz-yin blaster met him square in the forehead.

Chakotay froze for long enough to blink up at the soldier he'd been aiming to kill with his knife a few seconds before. He realized that the guard was in fact a pilot, if the helmet meant anything at all. But he barely acknowledged this fact; the commander's steady mind was already judging the time it would take to force the weapon away from his skull for long enough to strike out with the blade once more.

Once more would be all he needed.

The metal was cold against his forehead, pressing harshly into his skin. Chakotay's weight shifted to his right foot, where his toes tried in vain to dig into the stone floor through his boots, preparing to support his powerful body as he sprung.

"You're human!" he heard through the highly reflective helmet, the astonished and clearly feminine voice growled in amazement.

The adrenaline did not allow him to process the utterance. He lunged.

Yurros had already recovered from his hard fall to the ground, his fur rumpled and his hearts racing. He watched in horror as the human male sprang from the floor, knocking the senator's weapon aside and going for her throat with his knife.

Benzas swung around from the corner of the hallway he'd been pressed against. He'd recognized that voice; he knew it very well. That was no Jehnz-yin soldier, but he'd seen the feral light reflecting in the commander's eyes, and it hadn't dimmed. He had to move.

"Commander," he hissed, two right arms reaching out and just barely catching the back of the human's tunic and probably saving his friend's life for the second time in fewer minutes. Shasta reared back, knocked off kilter by Chakotay's arm which had swept the blaster away from his head with amazing force. She toppled backward, losing her grip on the weapon as it was yanked from her hand and landed hard on the stone floor.

The knife barely missed her throat again by an inch.

Chakotay whirled, enraged. Instinct screamed at him to fight the hands restraining him. The objective wasn't being served by this interference. He pulled back the blade of his knife with unerring skill, tucking it under his thumb at the last minute before his fist connected with the Oncaveat senator's mouth. A sickening crunch preceded the muffled cry by barely an instant, and the grip on Chakotay's uniform was released as Benzas fell back against the wall.

Chakotay stilled, his breathing hard, one eye on the three Oncaveat prisoners who were, absurdly, helping the Jehnz-yin guard to his feet. He shifted to make sure his back wasn't vulnerable to the one who'd tackled him, but he too appeared to be concerned for the Jehnz-yin guard. They bunched together just behind Benzas. As Chakotay had seized the weapon in his left hand before the guard fell and Benzas had yanked him back, the commander didn't feel it necessary to fear another attack from the single guard. His angry eyes found Benzas. He focused the man in his sights like a hunter stalking prey and snarled, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Benzas slowly lowered his hand from his bloody mouth. Talking was difficult. "That is not a Jehnz-yin guard, Commander," he explained as calmly and as clearly as he could around swollen facial tissue. "It's Senator Accor…my friend. She's leading the rescue mission we didn't think would succeed." He was careful to speak fairly slowly and to not aggravate Chakotay further, but there was still a hint of pride tingeing his thick voice.

Chakotay ignored it. He fixed his dark, fathomless eyes on the small group, the weapon trained on the quartet of "prisoners" and their single "guard".

"Back here," he ordered, gesturing the group around the corner of the more brightly lit main corridor and into the smaller, darker hall he and Benzas had been exiting. The group obeyed wordlessly, eyeing him cautiously as they eased slowly toward him. "Quickly," he hissed when they didn't move fast enough. He backed away, pulling Benzas with him, careful to keep a safe distance between the group and the two of them. His eyes flickered down the corridor, looking for signs that the commotion had attracted attention from any soldiers. He saw nothing, and his eyes were already focused upon the group of Oncaveat again as he physically yanked Benzas back around the corner with him.

The commander waited until they'd cleared the corner by a few meters before speaking again. Inwardly, he was dying a little more inside as the precious seconds ticked by, probably at Kathryn's expense.

"Take off the helmet," he ordered tersely. When the pilot obeyed, he saw instantly how mistaken he'd been. The long flowing hair spilled out of the helmet, and the regal features were clearly both Oncaveat and feminine. It occurred to Chakotay only briefly that this could be a trick, but not even the Doctor would have been able to effect such a marvel of cosmetic transformation from a Jehnz-yin soldier into the tiny woman before him.

She could be a hologram. Tricorder replaced blaster, which he'd tossed to Benzas without a thought: Chakotay still held his knife in his right hand. Swiftly, the tricorder confirmed his companion's assertion: there were five Oncaveat life signs very clearly registering on his scanner, as there had been a moment ago. He nodded once, satisfied, and tucked the scanner back into his pocket.

Introductions were brief.

"Senator," he acknowledged the woman who had relaxed somewhat as the weapon passed from unpredictable human to known Oncaveat friend. "Commander Chakotay, first officer of Voyager. You know Senator Cori," he jerked his head to indicate Benzas, who stood gazing fondly at the woman and her companions.

"I do," the female senator's grave voice confirmed. Her serious eyes fixed upon Chakotay, taking him in. "I also take it you are here to rescue your captain?"

Damn it, they didn't have time for this. It was rude, but he didn't acknowledge her question. He got straight to the point. "What were your objectives in this building?" he demanded.

Benzas nodded to Shasta when her eyes darted questioningly in his direction. "Tell him," he urged.

"We were looking for her, of course," Shasta replied in a bewildered tone. "The prison cells seemed the logical place to…"

"She's not here," Chakotay snapped, cutting her off. "She's in the main interrogation facility, and this is wasting time we don't have," he snapped. "There's an escape tunnel a few corridors back. Benzas will give you the route. We've set charges to blow open the doors to each occupied cell, which will go off in about ten minutes... Every prisoner will have to clear this building, and quickly. Go with them. Get them to safety. My ship is targeting this facility, and if they don't hear from me within a certain period of time, they're going to destroy this part of the base. But first, I need to find a Jehnz-yin uniform that will fit me, because I need to lead Senator Cori into that building without drawing unwarranted suspicion. What can you tell me about the last two corridors? How many guards are there, and how many prisoners?"

Shasta's mind was spinning. "I…there are none of either," she replied then amended, "none alive."

Chakotay's mind was significantly eased. If he'd had to clear those corridors as well, this unexpected delay could very well have cost them the entire objective. He relaxed by a microscopic fraction. "Good. Then I need to find a uniform to…"

Shasta stepped forward, deliberately removing Yurros's hand from around her arm, which had tightened there the moment he realized what she about to say. "Let me go with you instead, Commander."

Chakotay shook his head. "That's out of the question."

Her small shoulders squared, and then she spoke up in a sure voice for the first time since the unsettling meeting in the main hall. There was a quality to the tone she used now that struck a chord of recognition somewhere deep within Chakotay, but he didn't have time to process it. He was only aware of suddenly taking the small woman seriously for the first time as she persisted in her insistence.

"No. Listen to me," she urged him in a voice more like steel than the timid utterances he'd heard from her so far. "The guards are changing shifts in less than five minutes; I heard one of them mention that outside. When they do, they're going to realize something's wrong, and there's no way you'll make it out of this building once they've sounded the alarm. There's a dead guard lying at the entry checkpoint, slumped over the desk."

Chakotay cursed vehemently. He could have throttled the woman. His irritation swelled up within him like a mad storm, threatening to explode outward. Less than five minutes…damn it. His mind raced through his remaining options. He'd have to double back and take one of the blood-soaked uniforms they'd left behind on a fallen guard…

But she wasn't done speaking. "I can lead you both out of here, right now, as prisoners ready for interrogation. When they see that you're human, they'll automatically assume you've been summoned to interrogation…it'll make the most sense," she urged.

Chakotay had to agree. He heard the undeniable sense in her words. His mind stilled in its desperate workings to modify his plan so that he could still reach the captain…Kathryn…in time. If he'd mistaken Shasta for a Jehnz-yin pilot, there was a chance that everyone else would, too. There was a chance that this could work.

Hell. Surprisingly, it was a good chance.

"Shasta," Benzas was intoning beside him, drawing Chakotay's gaze with the strange inflection he heard in the man's voice, "are you certain you can do this?"

There was only a moment's hesitation. She shifted her warm eyes from Chakotay to her friend and then glanced backward to lock eyes with one of the followers standing behind her. The man's eyes shone with tears but of what Chakotay couldn't identify. He didn't have the time to try to work out the strange undercurrent passing through the air amongst the aliens in the room. He waited with baited breath for her response.

Her eyes returned to Chakotay's. They were hard, and her voice was steady and true. "Yes," she confirmed. "I can."

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer**: I'm out of borderline clever ways to say this. Not mine, never will be, see chapter one if you must have the details.

**Chapter Rating**: T plus, maybe. Definitely some adult themes.

**Notes**: Thanks again to Cheshire for reading through this.

Chapter Seventeen

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

The transmission still hadn't been cut. It incensed him. His communications were utterly ignored, and when he demanded an explanation for the general's willful disregard of his chancellor's communiqués, he was given the runaround. Some no-name infantry soldier from another base entirely appeared on screen, stammering more and more nervously each time he repeated the same, flimsy story.

The general's base was experiencing communications errors. All messages were being diverted to Norat until Osalik's primary base could reopen the lines of communication. In the meantime, the chancellor's many urgent messages were waiting to be sent to the general at the earliest opportunity...

With a snarl and a promise to make sure the soldier never rose to any rank of significance in his lifetime, Gerros snapped out a command to terminate the link yet again. It would be the final time. Seething, he turned to regard the image on the viewer, his stomach churning with pure rage as he heard his father give the order to have the alien woman cut down from her bonds.

The fool had at least one group of rescuers already swarming through his supposedly secure base. The gods only knew when the rest of the Voyagers would arrive to reclaim their leader. And now, it seemed, Garan was about to be drawn into yet another distraction with the alien, Janeway.

The human was fascinating. He could admit that. He found himself drawn to her image on the screen, as he had been for nearly twelve hours. Gerros was naturally curious, a trait he attributed to the Oncaveat half of him. His curiosity had been piqued from the moment he'd seen her. She was the first example of the human form, and it had been odd at first, but the strangeness of the alien figure had long since grown on him. He'd begun to recoil along with her as each blow marked her odd fair skin and even silently cheered her onward as she continued to defy her tormentor. Now, the chancellor cringed with her as she dropped her eyes to the floor in seeming defeat as the general announced his final intentions.

Xi had been relentlessly taunting her with the prospect for hours now… She would know what that meant; their translators seemed to be doing a good enough job with the language barrier, as evidenced by the fact that her scant replies were easily understood even though she was by now having difficulty speaking.

At the first of these taunts, Gerros had felt his insides twisting. He had not thought to forbid this particular method of torture, though he supposed he should have done so. He'd been raised amongst the Jehnz-yin military and was familiar with their habits…all of them. Of course he knew how soldiers were want to regard their female prisoners. He'd grown up with the reality, as a child even occasionally drifted off to sleep to the sharp, piercing screams of his father's newest acquisitions of war. It rarely bothered him, fundamentally, and why should it? It was how many of the Jehnz-yin people had been conceived; it was how he himself had been conceived.

He did not want this woman touched…that way. Not by the general and his lowly, vile subordinates. Whatever else she may have been, strange, enemy, and of a lesser species, she'd proven herself worthy of her rank. She'd bested the finest the Jehnz-yin military had to offer, and she'd liberated her people from Xi's clutches. This Janeway was no common woman. As far as Gerros was concerned, it was no longer the general's place to address her at all, much less to humiliate her so utterly. Yet it seemed there was nothing Gerros could do to prevent it.

She couldn't be expected to survive this, too. She was already perilously close to death; that much was clear to be seen. Gerros didn't like her color. He didn't like the way some of her wounds were beginning to turn differing shades of green, or that her breathing had become increasingly labored. She was probably only conscious at all due to his scientists' compound…

How he regretted ordering the administration of that compound, now! If he'd followed his instincts and had the woman brought to him immediately, he could have administered it himself. And what was perhaps the greatest opportunity for his race's salvation wouldn't be slipping from his grasp before his very eyes.

The blaring klaxon of an alarm sounded suddenly on screen.

Gerros's eyes drew eagerly back to the screen. Was it his men, arriving at last?

One of Xi's obnoxious, leeching minions who hovered perpetually in the background was snarling into his communicator. He paused to hear an inaudible response from the chancellor's position, then the soldier visibly tensed. When he turned to approach his master, it was with obvious trepidation. He angled around the triumphant man just arriving with the coveted blade and had to shout over the resulting cheer that broke out in the room. "General! There's been a break in at the prison!"

Would it stop him? The chancellor hovered anxiously over the viewscreen. Not his men, but…would it be enough? He held his breath.

Xi turned from the alien woman with a growl. "Are you actually telling me that those Oncaveat scum managed to…" He took a step back from the woman, looking torn, and Gerros could sense relief washing over him until Xi halted abruptly. The general's face had caught on the eyes of his victim and the obvious relief there. He smiled, slow and wide. "No," he decided, turning back to her. "It's not important. They won't get far. Send in as many teams as we have to spare," he ordered almost lazily now. "Surround the building. Contain them. Burn it to the ground if you have to."

The remorse in the woman's eyes was clear to be seen. The soldier who'd been the bearer of the news shrunk back, appalled. "But…some of our men are still in there…"

Xi snapped, snarling, his patience obviously waning. "I have been held off long enough!" he exploded, making his men cower back in fear. "They forfeited their lives the minute they failed to keep the holding cells secure!"

No one argued. A silence descended over the room, the atmosphere of celebration considerably dampened. The general's famous temper was nothing to be courted under any circumstances.

"All of you except Burx, Janus, Hurz, and…" he smiled as one particularly eager pair of eyes locked with his over the woman's shoulder, "Renz…assist them. Contain that break in. I want those Oncaveat brought to me, either dead or alive. Don't bother returning until you have them. In the meantime, the five of us will be more than enough to teach _Kathryn_ a thing or two about Jehnz-yin superiority."

Janeway was mute. Many conflicting emotions had shone across her battered face during the exchange, weariness and defeat among them, but most of all, she displayed an unwavering hatred for the chancellor's father, Xi.

No one on the screen dared whine as Xi returned to his original position in front of the woman.

The chancellor whirled away from the viewer and angrily slammed his hand atop the control panel near his armrest, sending out another transmission. _This one_, he thought darkly, _had better_ _prove to be a whole lot more valuable than the last few. _If he hadn't already forgotten the name of the insolent soldier, the chancellor would have used the time while he stood awaiting a response to carry out his threat and ensure that the man was disciplined. Eyes narrowing, Gerros toyed with the idea of researching the soldier's identity and simply having him executed…slowly. He toyed with the idea of having Garan executed, also. He realized with an inward start that if all still managed to go according to plan – if he could liberate the woman from Xi and bring her here – he might actually be able to accomplish the feat without losing the crucial support of the public.

The kind of absolute power the woman might give him, finally, made his insides ache with anticipation.

A moment passed before the answering acknowledgement was heard and the viewscreen darkened, deconstructing the image of Janeway and giving way to the stoic visage of the captain of his Imperial Guard.

"Status!" the chancellor snarled at once, wasting no time on preliminaries.

"We've arrived, sir," the captain reported crisply. "Only just docked."

"What in the eleven hells _took_ you so long?"

The captain's lips curled upward into a sneer of distaste. "Our initial requests for docking were ignored. Apparently, communications at Osalik are down."

Clearly, the captain no more believed this obvious fabrication than the chancellor did.

"So I've been told!" Gerros snarled. "How long before you can retrieve the woman?"

"If she's in the main interrogation chamber and _if_ the general cooperates, we can have the subject secured within minutes. If not…"

The chancellor's reply was swift, and it was severe. "If the _general_ does not recognize the official seal of this office, then he's a traitor, and you'll deal with him accordingly."

The captain grinned widely, hardly bothering to hide it. Gerros let him. There was a traditionally fierce rivalry between the standard military and the Jehnz-yin guard dating back centuries. The two factions hated one another. "With your permission, we'll disembark now."

"Yes, yes, of course! And remember…I want her alive. If she dies, it will be on your head, understand? She is to be delivered to me _alive_…and untouched," he added, last moment, not thinking it necessary, but remembering his previous error and not daring to make the same mistake twice.

He only hoped that it wasn't already too late.

"I hear and obey, Chancellor. She will be delivered as you've requested."

The captain moved his right hand to terminate communications. Just before he pressed the button, something in Gerros had him amending, "Wait! Don't cut the link. I want to able to observe your progress. I shall monitor the extraction personally."

If he was surprised at the bizarre demand, the guard captain hid his astonishment well. He gave a curt nod before turning to his men and giving the order to disembark.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

It had taken an inordinate amount of time to locate the knife the general had requested. From the bits and pieces of the soldiers' scattered, victorious boastings that were still penetrating her awareness, it seemed that implements of torture used to break more illustrious subjects of interrogation held an almost sentimental value to the depraved Jehnz-yin. That many different blades had been used to slice open her flesh had confused her until she'd been able to piece this disturbing fact together; the soldiers were pocketing the weapons after only a few cuts into her tethered body in order to sell them at a later date. Apparently, anything still tinged with her blood would fetch amazing prices on the open market. That she was both the first human to have been subject to the mighty general's tender mercies and the leader of the enemy vessel added to the knives' value. A few had even been scraped sideways along her many gaping injuries in order to swipe away even more of the precious commodity of her blood. The ever-growing puddle of it at her feet was ignored, for the most part. Even the Jehnz-yi had their standards; the blood had to come directly from a deliberately caused wound, else it lost its worth entirely.

Xi waited with her, helping her to pass the time. He seemed to think they were honoring her.

He wouldn't shut up. Kathryn thought the pain would be almost bearable if he would only stop talking.

"You should be flattered," the general soothed, smoothing strands of damp hair away from her battered face.

_**"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Neelix." **_

Neelix. Dear, sweet, obnoxious and loyal Neelix. She hoped he would be all right. No doubt the doctor had had his work cut out for him. Would he understand why she'd rescued Harry first?

"Such a shame it had to come to this," Xi lamented against her ear. "If you'd only told me what I wanted to know, this would all have been over much more quickly for you." Claws caressing her skin, down her neck and across her taut, aching shoulders. Obscene parody of another caress she'd done her best not to think about again.

But that caress had been loving. Warm. The general's touch was anything but…

Janeway shuddered. Her eyelids fluttered. A shame she couldn't be ill anymore. She'd already lost the meager contents of her stomach hours ago, much to Garan's disgust. They'd taunted her for it. The reward for her weakness was to be sloshed with pail after pail of icy, frigid water until she'd begun to choke on the rivulets of liquid creeping into her nostrils and running into her gasping throat. She'd hung blue and shivering for nearly an hour before the heat in the room had fully dried her. And far from numbing the pain, as she'd hoped, the arctic chills had only seemed to sharpen it.

It would almost be worth repeating the agony of that experience just to get him the hell off of her.

"You hate me for this, but it isn't my doing, you know. It's yours. I didn't want to have to do this. This is no one's fault but your own…_Kathryn_."

He could never know how correct he was, Janeway thought to herself.

"_**Mr. Tuvok, ready the tricobalt devices." **_

"_**The tricobalt devices are ready."**_

"_**We're in position…"**_

"_**Fire.**_**"**

Fire, yes. Fire consumed her when the knife sliced through the first binding around her left wrist. Janeway had managed to shift her eyes a fraction and observe the action with a kind of morbid fascination. Her arm fell like a dead weight to her side, and a searing, knife-like pain shot through her shoulder. Burning.

_Fire_.

She cried out but only weakly; it was nothing compared to the sensation of having her left femur shatter into dozens of tiny shards. It didn't even remotely rival the bone deep slash across her right hip.

"You have only yourself to blame for this," Xi was chiding her in his hissing, falsely remorseful tone.

Didn't she always?

"_**How DID we end up here, Chakotay? Answer me."**_

"_**We were faced with a difficult choice. We had the means to get home, but using it would've put an innocent people at risk, so we decided to stay."**_

"_**No…no, no. **_**I_ decided to stay. _I _made that choice for everyone."_**

Her right wrist was freed, and the sensation repeated. This time, only a small, defeated groan escaped her bloodied lips until, without the support of her bindings, she teetered limply forward into something tall and solid. She could feel the further tearing of the cuts that had finally begun to clot before the sudden movement ripped open the freshly formed scabs, and Janeway screamed in new agony.

Had she been capable of reflecting upon anything but the pain in those few seconds, it would have amazed her to note that she was still able to scream at all.

At least the poor doctor wouldn't have to be saddled with trying to piece her back together...not this time.

It was astounding, really, the level of her failure. It almost defied comprehension, she decided hazily as she hovered somewhere between insanity and oblivion. How had everything gone so wrong…so completely utterly wrong?

"_**I made an error in judgment, Chakotay. It was short-sighted, and it was selfish. And now, all of us are paying for my mistake. So if you don't mind, Commander, I'll pass on that little game…"**_

What if she hadn't? What if she hadn't passed on so many things…? She'd never know now.

Her fault. All of it.

The thing she'd fallen into began to reverberate, and a spasm of pure horror cut through the intense waves of pain and delirium gripping her. As her left ankle was cut loose, the gash at her hip was also jostled. Another scream tore free from her raw throat, but it was only half pain. The other reason for her vocalization was, of course, the realization that the "thing" preventing her from falling was none other than Xi.

And he was laughing.

He held her against him, waiting patiently for her remaining limb to be freed from the restraints. Again, his lips grazed her ear. Again, the general whispered the same vile threats against her crawling flesh that he'd been repeating for hours on end. Again, he reiterated his intentions to break her spirit completely. The words hadn't changed. Neither had the tone.

Only this time, it really hit her. Even through the pain, the fear that she had ultimately failed her crew and that this had all been in vain, it really hit her now what he intended to do. The threat was no longer some vague future menace, but a real and immediate prospect. In belated horror, she reached out to Benzas, but no answer was forthcoming.

In that hideous moment, Kathryn was forced to accept that the cold, the silence descending over her – despite the fact that she could now see the general's mouth forming the words she no longer heard – was due to the undeniable fact that she was dying.

Too late. Too weak. Too damaged to facilitate anything, even a fortifying contact with her bond mate.

"_**Two more years in the void. I can live with that."**_

"_**But I'm not sure I can. Four years ago, I destroyed the Caretaker's array to protect the Ocampa. That act of compassion stranded this crew in the Delta quadrant. I'm not about to give that order again."**_

She'd been so sure that she was doing the right thing. She'd been comforted by the knowledge that her death would serve a greater purpose…not only to an ancient and noble race, but to her crew as well. She'd bet on them understanding. How could it not be considered a worthy cause?

But Janeway was afraid now; she was afraid the crew wouldn't understand. If she'd succeeded, they might have. They, too, would have been comforted with the knowledge that she'd at least died for a good reason…

Now, though?

"_**This situation is a little different."**_

"_**It's close enough. I'm asking this crew to make too big a sacrifice. I won't make that same mistake."**_

_**  
**_It was the same reasoning she'd used to justify her decision to facilitate this rift. And both times, it had seemed like the right thing to do.

Janeway wasn't so sure now. She was no longer sure of anything.

Xi's mouth, grinning in triumph, descended upon hers. An intense wave of icy cold swept over her body even as her lips burned at the brutal contact with his victorious and ravaging mouth. The laughter of the Jehnz-yin soldiers faded in and out. In between, she heard only the deafening silence of complete defeat.

She'd lost. She couldn't possibly be capable of forming a rift if she was dead.

He'd won.

As his mouth claimed her soul, seeming to suck the very breath out of her aching lungs, the tears that she had managed to suppress all this time – tears not of physical but of emotional agony – welled up and spilled over her cold cheeks. The crew would know how she'd spent the last few minutes of her life, of course. Xi would see to that.

Past and present were blending together, a torturous blend of images and sounds. Mistakes.

"_**Forget it. We're not going to let you die out here!"**_

_This time I knew better than to ask what you thought, B'Elanna._

They'd have to understand… They would, wouldn't they? They'd have to understand that she hadn't told them what she'd been planning because she couldn't risk them trying to talk her out of it this time. She'd done what she thought best for the ship…for them.

Always for them.

The general severed contact with her mouth as the feel of the silent tears running down her face touched his lips. With a slow, knowing smile he released her, his tongue coming out of his mouth to slowly lap the salty residue of her tears from her lips. It burned.

"_**Fire**__."_

"Are you afraid, Kathryn?" Xi was asking. "There's nothing to fear." His false sympathy was eerie. "This will be quite pleasant." He grinned. "For one of us, at least."

She needed him to shut up. Needed him to let go of her aching head, needed the pain to stop.

"Have you had enough yet, Kathryn?"

Has she? Oh, yes. More than enough.

The tears would not be stopped. No matter how hard she tried to will them to stop, they kept falling. Everything hurt…even her thoughts hurt her now.

"_**I've made my decision."**_

"_**What about us. Don't we have a say?" **_

_No, Harry, _she thought._ Not this time. I didn't give you one, did I?_

_  
__**"He's right, Captain. I'd be willing to brave this void if it meant keeping you with us." **_

Would Neelix understand, she wondered again. Would any of them? Oh, God…would they feel she'd abandoned them? Janeway prayed that they wouldn't hate her for what she'd done here. If she could only be certain that they would know she'd done this for them…

Xi's voice had gone soft – almost seductive. "You can still end this. Just tell me those coordinates, and I'll leave you in peace."

It sounded almost reasonable. What harm could it do now?

"Don't you want to rest now, Kathryn?"

She wanted that with a desperation she'd never known before.

"I'll even have some clothing brought in for you. Some water, perhaps? Your dear, tender throat must be so very sore." His hands migrated to her neck, where his thumbs casually ran vertical lines along the strained muscles.

She was losing her grip on sanity. She was cold. So very cold. And empty. It had all been in vain…

She was dying.

"This is your last chance. Just tell me where that rift was supposed to open, Kathryn. What difference can it make now?"

None, of course. And it might even stop the pain. The endless, relentless pain…

"_**But at what point is the risk too great? At what point do we come about and retreat to friendly territory? Could the crew accept living out the rest of their lives in the Delta Quadrant? I keep looking to all these captains, my comrades in arms. But the truth is I'm alone…"**_

"_**If that moment comes. we'll face it together. And we'll make the right decision. You're not alone, Kathryn."**_

Alone.

Cold and empty.

Chakotay wasn't here now. She'd left him back on Voyager, unaware. He hadn't known that it would be the last time he would see her, and she'd deliberately not given him any indication to the contrary. He'd have stopped her…tried to, anyway. He'd have been right to do it. But she hadn't told him.

He would know by now, though. When Tuvok opened the rift instead of her, he would know…it had probably already happened…

Xi stepped to the side, allowing her to fall to the ground completely. Janeway hit on her knees first – hard. The scream was automatic. Her arms weren't strong enough to catch her, and she slumped forward to lay facedown on the hard stone. Upon impact with the floor, she felt a piercing stab in the wound already at her side and felt it tear further. Another scream, this one more a hoarse echo than anything else.

There was an odd sensation of warm, sticky liquid pouring over her lower body. So much emptiness. So cold…

"_**Then I guess I am alone, after all."**_

That hadn't been fair to say. She should apologize…

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to focus on the ripples her movement created in the dark liquid on the floor. It made funny patterns in the dirt. For a moment, she thought she recognized the familiar lines of Chakotay's tattoo swirling near her left hand. Everything hurt.

Xi's shadow fell over her. He laughed heartily. "Sorry?" he mocked. "Are you sorry you didn't tell me what I wanted to know now? Or sorry I didn't get around to this sooner?"

_Chakotay_, she tried to whisper, mouthed helplessly. So cold. Empty. The general fell to the floor behind her, kneeling. She could see him in her mind, if not with her eyes. She recoiled from the touch of hands grasping her hips.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, never will be, see chapter one if you must have the details.

**Chapter Rating**: T plus. Definitely some adult themes.

Chapter Eighteen

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

The three companions had slipped into the communications' chamber with surprising ease. Concealing themselves hurriedly in a darkened doorway, they'd waited in the adjoining hall as a rush of Jehnz-yin soldiers cleared the main interrogation facility. Chakotay had been vaguely satisfied to hear their animated shouting confirming that the alarm had sounded at the prison building. The explosives had detonated as programmed.

After the stampede of soldiers had passed them by, the three had slipped into the communications' room using another stolen access card; the soldier they'd taken it from would not be missing it in the after life.

Only two soldiers awaited them there, though Chakotay's tricorders no longer worked to display the enemy life signs on the scanner. It seemed their proximity to the dampening field's generator was finally interfering with the tricorders as he'd feared. He was tempted to try his communicator, but decided against it. Time was of the essence, and he didn't even want to waste that little remaining time. The communicator would work once the dampening field was taken out. It would have to.

The two Jehnz-yin soldiers were crowded around a large viewer, laughing at something they saw there, but as Benzas and Shasta both fired their weapons before the soldiers could do much more than splutter at the intrusion, Chakotay was free to cross directly to the center of the room and set the timed detonator he snatched from his pack, which had been slung over Shasta's shoulder. He approached the massive generator, pleased when no forcefield snapped his hand away from the machine.

"Cover the door," he ordered them tersely as he knelt before the alien equipment. He was only subconsciously aware of the sounds of bleeping sensors and control panels monitoring various aspects of the base's operations. Tinny voices spoke quietly in the background on some form of comm. channel while he worked, but he didn't listen to them. Selecting the base of the generator as a location to adhere the explosive, he verified once more that the timer was set for five minutes, and had begun to worry vaguely that the control pad for the timing sequence seemed sluggish.

Chakotay cursed softly, not realizing that he'd used more swear words in the last twelve hours than he had in the previous five years combined. How had it not occurred to him that the other equipment might be affected by the field as well?

He wished Harry was here to take a look at the keypad, but couldn't afford to stay still. With a final thorough inspection of the detonator, the commander had to content himself with the fact that the timer was counting downward as it should. Only time would tell now.

At least he knew this section of the base by heart, having memorized the last steps that would take him to his ultimate objective long ago.

He turned sharply back to his two companions at Benzas's sudden, choked cry.

"Commander, we need to move _now_!" the Oncaveat male urged breathlessly.

Chakotay's heart stopped when he saw what had caught the man's attention. The commander's eyes fused to the image on the viewer and what was left of his world crumbled in on him. A figure lying on the filthy floor was facing the viewer as the loathsome Jehnz-yin general kneeled behind it. Blood – too much of it. It was pooled on the floor beneath her. The general was kneeling at the edge of the ominously spreading puddle.

Xi curled a thick, muscled arm beneath the miserable figure's waist to haul her to her hands and knees. A weak scream filled the air.

"Perhaps this will incite you to be more cooperative," Xi growled, letting go of her with one hand and twisting his claws in the tangle that was her hair to yank her head back viscously. And Chakotay saw the most haunting thing he'd seen to date as another muted sort of scream filled both rooms. It was Kathryn, of course. Gods, but she looked like hell: even worse than she had the last time he'd seen her, hardly an hour ago. She was barely alive, on the brink of consciousness. There were tears streaming down her battered face, and her eyes…the sparkling eyes he knew so well…were raw pain and even, yes, terror. The voices he'd been hearing at the back of his conscious perception sharpened as he honed in on them automatically.

Other soldiers cheered in the background though they weren't visible on the viewer. Lewd encouragements were being shouted at the general.

"I'm sorry," Janeway was whispering, barely able to be heard above the din in the background. Her throat was so raw the sound barely escaped her cracked and bloodied lips.

"What's that? You're _sorry_?" the general tormented gleefully. "You're sorry you didn't tell me what I wanted to know, or you're sorry I didn't get around to this sooner?"

It was unclear whether or not she'd heard him, but Chakotay knew who her words were for even if the general didn't.

"I'm sorry," she repeated hoarsely, her voice hardly a croak of a whisper. "Wasn't supposed to…happen…like this…get them...home..."

Chakotay stared on in horror as she seemed to focus her tormented eyes directly on him through the viewer. If it hadn't been for the fact that he could almost believe she knew he was there watching her at this moment, he would already have been blasting through the remaining two walls to get to her… She of course had no way of knowing that he was only two rooms away from her at this very moment.

Her next word made no sound, but he heard it in his head as if she'd screamed it. He watched the shape of his own name formed on the outline of her lips as the general's claws dug into her scarred hips and he dragged her back against him. "_Chakotay_," she mouthed. She was dying. He was too late. He was watching the blood, the life seep from the wound at her hip before his very eyes.

_No._

A cry of anguish escaped him, echoing off of the equipment in the large room. He didn't hear it. "_Move_!" he ordered the two sickened figures standing in the room with him. He was already sprinting for the door. Prudence be damned; there was no way he was taking the extra few minutes to cut through the empty room between them. The element of surprise would be sacrificed, but he didn't care. Chakotay no longer gave a damn about any of it...the carefully constructed plan, the agonizing attention to detail so they could effect their escape. He was going to get to her now.

He didn't care if he had to cut his way through a swatch of alerted Jehnz-yin soldiers to do it, or if the whole base came crashing down on his head for it.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

_Kathryn. _

Who was calling her name? Xi? She didn't think so. She'd only just been closing her eyes.

_Kathryn, it's time. _

She knew that voice. She knew that sensation. It was drawing the cold from her body, infusing her with a wonderful warmth. Gentle heat. No fire. No pain. Joy. Love.

"Hedri," she was barely able to gasp.

_Are you in position?_

Sharp pain. Stabbing. Burning. Position.

"Yes," she managed to whisper more loudly.

Uproarious laughter filled her ears. Burning. Ripping wounds, agony.

_You're hurt. Badly. Listen to me. _Joy. Love. _Hear my voice. Can you hear the others yet?_

She couldn't. She should be able to, but she couldn't. Fear. Anticipation. Joy.

"I must say, my dear…of all the words I expected to come out of your mouth at this moment, 'yes' wasn't one of them!"

More laughter. Xi's voice. Burning and pain. Laughter, defeat. Alone.

Tired. She wanted to rest.

"You _do_ want this," Xi was sneering, somewhere. Where was he? He was here, she knew. He was near her…behind her…touching her. Humiliating, killing. Burning. Dying. Pain. "I knew it. Perhaps you'll tell me now what those coordinates were?"

Darkness descending. Empty. Cold. So cold.

_It's time. We'll begin. Let go._ A sudden, last infusion of strength. Joy. Burning.

Fire.

_Kathryn, please. _Hedri was pleading. _I can't sense all of you. Let go. _

"Tell me, Kathryn," the hideous general urged, drawing the captain's last bit of focus to him.

Hate. Fire.

"You want…to know?" Janeway managed with her last burst of remaining will. Her body began to hum softly as she was pulled from her hellish reality. "General?" she spat.

"Yes…" was the triumphant hiss behind her, over her. Nearly on her, in her ear. "Tell me where that rift was going to open. Tell me, Kathryn," he growled. So victorious.

Pain. Cold. A blue haze was spreading through her. Joy. She could see it seeping out through her skin, through her bruised white hands and arms below her. Warmth, but oddly she was still so cold.

"It's here, General. Osalik," she spat. Warm liquid, pouring out of her. Cold. Triumph. "The rift…_is_ opening…here. But not…the way…you want…."

Triumph – hers, this time.

The pain receding suddenly. A cry of surprise from behind her. No more laughter.

"What the…"

"What's wrong with her? She's turning blue... What is that? It's…she's…"

She was aware of the grip relenting. Shock. Falling to the floor. More burning, the worst yet. Then no feeling at all. Silence. She could no longer see, but Kathryn could feel the disbelief around her. The unmitigated shock. The fury, the fear.

She smiled inwardly. Victory...

Enough.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, never will be, see chapter one if you must have the details.

**Chapter Rating**: T plus. Definitely some adult themes.

Chapter Nineteen

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

The link burst upon him, flowing over and into him as they stood at the entrance to the door. He watched Chakotay swipe the access card at the keypad, and the doors parted with ease, but it was the last he saw of the events from a normal point of view. Beside him, Benzas felt Shasta stiffen, giving a small cry as the link overwhelmed her, also. They reached out, feeling rather than seeing as they linked hands and stepped the room.

Chakotay had already felled the first of four Jehnz-yin soldiers by the time they'd entered and was grappling against the surprised grip of the second as he drew his blade across the man's throat to stifle his cry of alarm. Satisfied with the results, Chakotay let to the man slump to the ground and stepped carefully over him.

The remaining two soldiers were closer to Xi, one standing just behind the general as he kneeled over Kathryn, keeping her pinned in place. The other soldier stood more to the side, observing the action with obvious relish. The soldier's clawed hand moved crudely over himself, very clearly excited by the scene before him. His hisses of encouragement only fed the inferno within his unseen enemy.

Chakotay's mind went blank. The only color he could see was red. Red, like the pool of her blood. Red like the one who'd just had his throat cut and now lay slumped on the floor...like her.

The third soldier was gasping something from behind Xi. "What the..."

The two were suddenly pulling away from her, and then Chakotay could see her more clearly...

"What is that? It's…she's…!"

The general was flipping her over onto her back, slamming her into the stone floor. She was covered in red; it was smeared over her knees and chest and hands. Oozing from the lashes crisscrossing her pale torso and back, trickling from her nose. Running from the gaping wound at her hip, pouring freely over her thigh and stomach. Too much of it. Far too much red...

She was glowing.

"What's wrong with her? She's turning blue..."

She was. A blue aura of some kind...an energy field...something Chakotay couldn't identify was radiating from her. It cleared some of the red from his vision as the blaster opened a hole in the third soldier's chest before catching the man again in the shoulder as he stumbled sideways, then fell to the ground.

Xi hadn't turned away from her, even through the noise of the weapon firing. He was transfixed, shaking her. Still, he wouldn't leave her alone.

"You bitch!" he was shouting, screaming into her face. "What have you done?"

Her eyes were open, but unfocused. She didn't react.

Chakotay aimed his weapon at the fourth guard, who had turned at the sight of his fallen comrade to find the three intruders standing there. The soldier reached for his weapon, shouting as Chakotay's finger ticked mercilessly along the trigger, ready to pull it again. A blast of energy surged out from just beside the human, catching the fourth soldier in the middle before Chakotay could fire. The commander never hesitated. He dropped the blaster in his left hand, the knife clutched firmly in his right. He was still moving forward when his arm curled around Xi's apoplectic throat.

From the corner of his eye, Chakotay noted a blur of motion and noted with satisfaction that Benzas had rushed forward to kneel by Kathryn's side. Shasta was quickly there with him, rifling in Chakotay's pack for the medical supplies. The blue was receding from her body, disappearing back into her as he spun the general away from her, off of her, twisting hard enough to break a human's neck. The general's neck offered more resistance, however. His muscled body twisted in outrage, and though he was able to spin to face his sudden assailant, he was not able to block the forceful blows that began to rain down upon him.

This was the moment Chakotay had been waiting for.

Xi saw only a flash of a dark, enraged face. The image burned into his mind before a fist came smashing down into his wide, hooked nose, then connected hard with his mouth and made his teeth sink into the inside of his lips. He howled, seeing streaks of red, and then felt the same fist connecting again and again. The pain was excruciating. What was even worse was the explosion of the human's knee driving into his exposed organ. He felt the breaking of tissues and cartilage there, too. Xi screamed in agony, in sheer rage at having been denied his victory.

Chakotay felt none of it. He saw instead the horrifying image of the woman he'd just ripped this creature off of, the battered, abused shell of a vibrant woman he knew he was never going to see again. Not as she had been, before these creatures from hell had invaded their lives. In his mind he saw her smile as she turned to face him, dazzling him with her beauty, admitting defeat and promising to rest…as soon as she finished those last recalibrations on the phaser bank upgrades. Her eyes dancing merrily, wickedly, light-heartedly. Blue orbs reflecting mirth and laughter and life. A smile that meant love and hope and home. Hands that lingered too long on his chest, promising, warming him to the core. Hands that held his in friendship, in companionship, in something that could be so much more.

He kept striking and pounding, never once aware of the stream of obscenities leaving his mouth or that they were in his native tongue. He kept pounding, bloodying, destroying because if and when he stopped, he would have to turn around and face the destroyed remnants of the idealized woman in his mind. He'd have to face the woman that was left, the woman he might not be able to fix this time.

These were the images flashing through his mind now, and the face of the hideous bastard…one of them…who'd ripped that woman away from him, possibly forever, never even registered. Instead, his mind conjured fleeting visions of terrified eyes, open and pleading: reflections of the murder of the beautiful soul they were the windows into. A bleeding, shattered soul forever haunted. An unsmiling mouth, bloodied and screaming. Fragile hands, bound. Unable to ward off her attacker.

He didn't think he could handle it. He kept lashing out with his fists, feeling nothing, seeing nothing of the damage he was inflicting on the Jehnz-yin bastard he'd just pulled off Kathryn. _Kathryn_. _Her_…his Kathryn. The blows he continued to lay down upon her assailant increased in intensity, and he had no idea of how his tears were dotting the unresisting, mutilated flesh of the creature beneath him…

It was only the howl of agony from behind him which snapped him back to the present. When he glanced down again, vision clearing, he saw a battered corpse lying crumpled on the floor beneath him. The satisfaction he should have felt wasn't there. There was only an emptiness, a numbing, blinding fear as he whirled to face his worst nightmare.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

Benzas had established the link via Hedri, not Kathryn. That quickly became apparent as he could not hear Kathryn's thoughts. For a second, he'd thought he could, but then he noted the worry in Hedri's bright spirit as the connection washed over him.

The link was breaking, he realized. Kathryn couldn't hold it. There just wasn't enough strength left in her. She'd lost too much blood. He felt Shasta's horror creeping into his consciousness as she, too, joined the link and realized the dire situation. Kathryn was slipping away from him. From all of them.

Now, it was only he, Hedri, and Shasta that were connected. Benzas forced his eyes...his physical eyes...to focus on the sight in front of him. His bond mate's eyes were open, but sightless. She'd need him to stabilize the link, if there was to be any chance of doing so now. He reached for her, desperate, placing shaking first hands along the side of her swollen face. Her beautiful, regal face.

Her smooth skin was like ice. So cold. She wasn't moving, and worse still, she'd stopped bleeding. Beneath his hands, the tension left her body, and her muscles visibly slackened. The aura was receding from her. And he could no longer feel her...any of her. He knew again the agonizing sensation of having half of his soul ripped away from him. He cried out in anguish as her life slipped away in his very hands.

"No!" he howled.

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

Hedri's voice was weaker now. For a moment, she'd been aware of other consciousness besides the Unani leader's brushing against her mind, but now she heard only Hedri.

_Kathryn! _

Too cold, too tired to answer.

_**"If the crew asks for me, tell them the captain sends her regards."**_

A cry of anguish, familiar, from somewhere above her. "No!"

Another voice, more familiar still. Comforting, even in sorrow. "Kathryn, no. Please! We're getting you out of here! Hang on. Please!" Urgent, but she didn't have the strength to fight the lure of oblivion…the darkness was quickly taking hold.

No longer alone, though. It was enough. More than enough.

Resting, finally…peace. And cold – no more fire.

No more anything. Darkness claimed her.

She let it.

* * *


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one please.

**Chapter Rating**: T

Chapter Twenty

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Yurros guided his kinsmen through the tunnels as swiftly as possible. In one palm, he clutched the communicator Benzas had pressed into his hand. While Shasta had explained how they'd used the recording of a Jehnz-yin soldier's boastings in the city streets just outside the base to respond to the inquiries of the soldiers inside, Benzas had instructed the priest to get as many Oncaveat prisoners as he could to the tunnels, which Yurros had done…but not without casualties.

They'd lost three prisoners too weak to keep up to the weapons' fire of pursuing Jehnz-yin guards. The soldiers had been prevented from following them to their escape tunnel as they fled, but in the skirmish Enki had been killed also. Yurros did his best not to think about it. He knew he had to keep moving, and that to give in to either his grief or his fear could kill them all, but…

He was a priest, not a soldier. Growing up Oncaveat in these horrid times produced a certain necessary shell of hardness, but it wasn't quite enough to prepare him for watching as his friend was gunned down in front of him. He tried to block it out as best he could. And the sight of his fellow Oncaveat in such atrocious conditions…

They'd rescued five prisoners in all, but of the five only one seemed able to grasp the reality of their situation. She was beside him now, and as he turned to offer his hand to steady her as she slipped through the narrow space between the outcropping of rock formations in front of them, he couldn't help but be struck by the look in her eyes. He remembered that look. Shasta had worn it from almost the moment she had returned up until several years after she'd been healed courtesy of Benzas and Hedri at the summit…

Shasta. He couldn't think about her now. Stars, but she was the last thing he could afford to think about in this moment. She was alive, so there was a chance she could make it out of here. She was with two men he instinctively trusted. If anyone would be able to get out of this hell, it was them. She and the facilitator had a chance, albeit a very slight one.

It was all he could hope for. He kept moving, urging the others to keep up as he did so.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

Harry Kim watched the viewscreen. He knew he shouldn't, but some part of him also knew that it was the best way to determine the status of the away team. But as he'd watched the captain be cut down from her bonds, the expression on his young face must have reflected the cold horror he'd felt in that moment. The general's words were disgusting, his threats vile and undeniably clear. The ensign had watched the woman he admired tormented beyond the limits of human endurance, hardly aware through the numb anger coursing through him that the doctor had moved to his side to watch with him.

It was horrible. About what he'd expected, considering Neelix's ordeal and subsequent condition on the shuttle all those hours earlier, but still…

And she'd volunteered for this. She'd knowingly put herself into this position, whether to save him and Neelix or for some other purpose entirely he didn't know. He didn't care. It was a sacrifice none of them would ever, ever have allowed her to make had they known what she'd intended. His free hand curled into a fist beneath the helm as he checked the stability of their orbit again.

He heard the doctor's sharp, simulated intake of breath from just over his shoulder and glanced back at the screen. His intestines twisted violently inside of him as the captain was pulled back against the general's kneeling form. He heard the general tell her she'd invited this abuse all on her own and at the hoarse, beaten scream escaping her Harry shot up from the helm and barely made it to the rear of the cabin before releasing the bile that rose up forcefully in his throat. He cursed as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bathroom mirror while wiping away the cool water he'd splashed on his face and used to rinse out his mouth. He thought he vaguely recognized elements of the commander's frightening darkness there before throwing the small towel into the recycler as he made his way back to the flight deck…

The doctor's terse voice greeted him as Kim took his seat to check their orbit and proximity detectors once more. He did not look at the screen again.

"The commander and Senator Cori have reached the captain," the hologram announced, and Harry's heart swelled with the first bit of hope in days, only to have it crushed again as he turned to scrutinize the doctor's too-guarded expression.

Harry's throat wanted to stick to itself, making the word hard to get out. "And?" he managed to croak.

The doctor's face remained grim as he turned to regard his shipmate. As the officer currently in charge of the rescue mission, the Ensign was entitled to the doctor's full report. He pulled no punches this time in relating what he'd observed of the captain's condition. "I'm afraid it doesn't look good. The captain has been in hypovolemic shock for some time now. She's been headed toward respiratory, heart and kidney failure for the last hour. Added to this, the Jehnz-yi aggravated the wound at her major artery when they moved her from her previous position…"

"What are you saying?" Harry cut in.

The doctor hesitated only briefly. "I'm afraid we may already be too late."

Harry's heart panged painfully. He fought to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling over as he turned away from the physician. The ensign's stinging eyes flicked over the chronometer, and he set himself into a painfully erect posture, drawing on every last dreg of his training to maintain his detached cool. He had a mission to carry out, after all. And he knew that Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay would want him to see it through to completion no matter what. "Let's hope you're wrong, Doctor. They have a few minutes left. Do what you can to prepare for their arrival."

"Aye, Sir," the doctor responded softly.

There was nothing more that he could say.

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

Gerros watched on the viewscreen as his father was pummeled by the slightly smaller human. He almost could not believe what he was seeing, and in more ways than one. How had one of the Voyagers gotten past not only the general's forces, but his own imperial guard as well? There had been no mention of the alien ship being sighted, and the last confirmed location of the vessel had put it light years away from Osalik. They must have used a smaller ship. Again. He didn't care, so long as it didn't interfere with his plans. He'd wanted to study the humans more closely, and now there was at least one other he could add to the list of potential subjects. He would have his men take this remarkable specimen who was, even now, beating his father's largely nonresistant body in addition to the woman, he decided.

She did not look well. She was convulsing slightly, and her eyes had lost all focus. He wondered if she'd gone blind, but even as the thoughts flitted across his hybrid brain he feared it was much worse than that. The blood flow from what he gauged was her most crucial injury was slowing, though the reopened wound showed no sign of clotting…

He refused to believe that this was as bad a sign for a human as it would have been for a Jehnz-yin or an Oncaveat.

His eyes found the other side of the screen again. Gerros would have smirked at the sight of his lustful father having been caught with his pants down if the other information transmitted to him on the hateful broadcast hadn't been so shocking. Their unwitting source, the one the Oncaveat took to be a willing collaborator and spy to the Jehnz-yin military, was standing in the same room. He'd known the source was coming...but he hadn't ever expected the rescue attempt to get this far.

He couldn't help staring at the face of their "spy". Under the circumstances, the chancellor thought his distraction forgivable. It was a face he knew intimately, almost as well as his own, though he hadn't laid eyes on the face quite like this before…

Well. This _was_ interesting. What to do now? He was torn.

Gerros slammed the other button on the control panel at his polished desk without glancing over at the other channel yet. His eyes were still transfixed to the other screen, where his father now lay unmoving under the blows of the other male, which the human continually delivered even now. The rage displayed on the dark human's face was a revelation to the chancellor. Apparently humans were capable not only of cool intelligence and hard defiance, but of more primal, passionate emotions as well. He took this to be an encouraging sign. If Janeway shared this trait, she might just survive her critical injuries…

But she didn't look good. She, like his father, now lay unmoving on the hard stone floor…his insides clenched viciously.

"Chancellor?" A cool voice floated over to him from the other channel. "We're making our way onto the grounds with little resistance. There appears to be a disturbance at the prison facility, and most of the military guards are surrounding the building."

Gerros barely heard the words; they took a moment to penetrate his overloaded mind. When they did, he snarled, "What the hell do I care what they're doing over there? If they aren't resisting you, ignore them! Get the human. _Now_." He paused, watching the screen intently. "And when you do, you'll find another human and two Oncaveat with her. Bring them all. Under no circumstances do I want them killed, understand?"

"Yes, Sir," the voice retorted over the comm., just as a faint rumbling was heard in the background.

And the transmission that had Gerros so transfixed suddenly went to black.

The chancellor of Ghenza Prime screamed out in frustration. After twelve continuous hours of transmission, the general's broadcast had finally, inexplicably, been terminated. Now he would have to wait until his men reached the main interrogation chamber to know what was happening within that room.

* * *

**Part IV**

* * *

"Kathryn, no. Please!"

The cry rang out from behind them, but he barely heard it. Benzas was aware of Shasta kneeling beside him and knew that the anguish gripping his heart was easily discernable to her. He couldn't find it within himself to care. He held the still form of his bond mate in his trembling hands. They resonated with a faint blue aura, but Kathryn was completely aura-less. Her eyes were open and entirely sightless. As he gazed into her unfocused eyes, he realized the worst of it…

Chakotay was kneeling before them then. "No," he was crying. "We're getting you out of here! Hang on. Please!" He took Kathryn's head in his bloody hands, making Benzas lose his disbelieving grip entirely.

The senator felt nothing from her. There had been a spark for a moment, a sense of peace. And then nothing. He'd been staring at nothing… And the damning knowledge that she was gone tore through him. He howled, mindless with the pain of it. It hurt nearly as much as losing his first bond mate and son had. He simply wasn't ready for it.

He'd been prepared to lose her…had had to be prepared as her death had been necessary from the beginning. But the human, damn him, had filled the senator with a false sense of hope. In the last few hours, Benzas Cori had begun to believe that Kathryn might still be saved without sacrificing the desperately needed rift…

Now he could only stare blankly at the woman he'd come to trade his life for. The woman whose life he'd allowed to slip away without argument…

Too late. As always, Benzas had been a moment too late to save the one he loved. His soul screamed out within him. Anguish. Despair.

And as he glanced up through his tears, the blurred outline of another desolate face was framed within his vision. He recognized the stripped look in the eyes of the man cradling his bond mate's limp and scarred form to his chest. Chakotay had lifted the top half of her from the cold floor into his embrace, and the cry of despair echoed as the only sound in the room. It was the moan of a man shattered. Halved.

For the first time, Benzas truly understood the man his bond mate had chosen over him. In unrelenting agony, their eyes met briefly over the lifeless body of the woman they'd both loved before Chakotay buried his face in her hair and the moment was over.

But for a brief time, they'd been united. As one in their overwhelming grief.

Shasta watched them both, and though she was linked with only one of the two men at her sides, she could clearly feel the shattering sorrow from both. She was so ensconced in the breathtaking pain emanating from the two of them that it was a long moment before her eyes were inevitably drawn over Benzas's shoulder to the figure that still loomed in her nightmares…

Garan Xi. Every step into this facility had felt like the tightening of the bonds she'd worn for the better part of two years. Every Jehnz-yin soldier she encountered was a reminder of the animal who'd broken her…nearly killed her in the end. She hadn't thought that she could really set foot in this room, knowing who and what awaited her here. If It hadn't been for Benzas and the overwhelming pull of the link suffusing her with purpose, the senator didn't think she'd have been able to step past the doors. Benzas's determination had kept her focused, driven toward Kathryn but now that purpose was lost. They'd failed. The human woman was dead.

And Xi… She started when her eyes came to rest upon the object of her nightmares. He was no longer recognizable. He was far from the imposing, terror-inspiring tyrant who'd ripped her newborn child out of her young arms and coldly informed her that the child would be euthanized, despite being his offspring, because of his mixed heritage. He wasn't the man she had begged not to leave with her child, and he wasn't the man who'd slammed the door shut and thrown the bolt closed in her face.

He was dead. Battered. Lifeless. No longer a threat. Not to her, to her people, or to the human woman who'd endured so much of the hell Shasta remembered from her own captivity…

Her thoughts turned back to Janeway. A woman she admired, despite knowing so little about the alien leader. Shasta wondered bitterly to herself whether they would have been friends if they had been permitted to know one another. So many similarities between them… The senator thought they would have had quite a bit in common, if they'd been able to get to know each other better. The woman already came with the highest of recommendations. After all, Benzas loved her. So did the man clinging to her now, his smooth features obscured as he buried his face in Janeway's hair and wept silently.

Why should Kathryn die when Shasta had lived? So unfair. So much sorrow. Her people would surely miss a woman remarkable enough to give her life for a people she'd met only weeks ago…

Shasta bowed her head and gave her two companions as much privacy in which to express their grief as possible. It was all she could do for them now.

* * *

**Part V**

* * *

Kathryn was no longer cold. The pain, the burning agony was gone entirely. She no longer felt claws digging into her skin or the incessant pounding in her skull… She vaguely remembered having been in pain before. Agony. But now…

Now she didn't feel anything. That was her first realization as she opened her eyes to get a look at her surroundings…

There was light. Sunlight. Streaming through thick, fragrant branches bursting with leaves. Trees, like those on Earth. Beautiful, glorious trees all around her. Familiar maples, conifers. Pines. Trees she hadn't seen up close save for on the holodeck and Voyager's one, ill-fated trip through time thanks to Captain Braxton…

This was Earth. She wasn't sure where, exactly, but nowhere else in the galaxy had this particular combination of scents. It was perfect. Nothing was too sweet, too spicy, too pungent. There were no blue branches marring the illusion or double winged birds to remind her of just how far from her real home she was…

How? She wondered, then stopped. It didn't seem to matter how. It was. Kathryn gave a little, surprised laugh of joy. She reached out a hand to the closest branch, marveling at the sensation of her hands closing over the soft leaves, allowing her fingertips to know the silky texture of the live-giving leaflets. Closing her eyes, she savored the feel of it for a moment.

The temperature was just right, too. Not too hot or too cold. Just…perfect. A perfect spring day, she thought… A light breeze was stirring, prompting her to open her eyes, and she could see wisps of her hair dancing out in front of her then caressing her face as she turning into the current of air. It didn't tickle. Odd, because it usually did…and then as if she'd willed the sensation to come to her, she could suddenly feel the ends of her hair stroking against her cheeks and neck. Softly. Tickling. Yes, this was right.

Of course this couldn't be Earth _really_. Not when she'd just died on a Jehnz-yin military base, tens of thousands of light years away… She supposed she didn't know where she was at all. It should have saddened her, but it didn't. Kathryn knew only that it was beautiful here. That she was content. At peace for the first time in so long…

Footsteps behind her caused her ears to perk up. Branches crackled beneath the weight of an approaching figure, and before she turned around to look, something inexplicable told her what she would find. She wasn't disappointed. Shadows of overhead branches fell across the strong features of the man approaching her and soft white hair danced in the breeze just like hers. Twinkling blue eyes met hers across the glade, and then Janeway knew a moment of dread at the sight unveiled before her. She'd been fooled by this image once and nearly been sucked into an alien matrix of hell because of it. She waited for the telltale feeling of apprehension to overcome her as it had the moment she'd awoken in that other reality…

But it didn't come. She felt only peace. And she didn't know why, or how, exactly, but this time, Kathryn knew that it was real. At least…as real as it could be when someone you knew was dead came striding toward you in a forest that shouldn't exist. But it was no illusion constructed with menace or designed to fool her into a false sense of security; this she somehow knew. This place was safe.

She released the breath she'd been holding and without waiting for the approaching figure to speak, her boots were sinking into the moist peat of the forest floor and Kathryn hurled herself across the remaining distance between them.

"Daddy," she whispered, as her father caught her up in his outstretched arms with a grin.

"My little girl," Edward's voice whispered into her hair as she buried her face into the front of his uniform, inhaling the scent of him and wrapping her arms gratefully around his broad, comforting middle. His tears spilled over her soft, auburn threads as he held her fiercely against him. "I've missed you so very much."

This was nothing like that other experience. Again, the unfounded certainty that this was real…that he, at least, was real overwhelmed her. She was somehow with him again.

"I've missed you, too."

She had. Oh God, how she had missed him…missed this. Needed it, at times, and had thought never to know this feeling of utter contentment again. But it was real. After all these years, she was being enfolded in that protective embrace to which no other solace in the galaxy could compare: her father's arms. Kathryn let go then. She sobbed against him, overwhelmed.

She was home.

* * *

**(Don't worry, I'm expecting to get the silent treatment for this. I promise to use the time to reflect upon the error of my ways...:p)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer**: They are not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

Note: Thank you, Cheshire, once again, for wading through this and helping me make sense. If anyone is able to follow most of this, it's probably thanks to her efforts ;)

Chapter Twenty-One

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

"I'm so proud of you."

Those were the words that tugged at her consciousness, crashing the sense of peace and security in one fell swoop. The freeing illusion of being back on Earth, secure in her father's arms, lost some of its magic as the price for this incredible gift fully dawned upon her. She'd been celebrating defeat, and realizing this, Kathryn stiffened in his embrace.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" she murmured into the warm chest against which she had pressed her face. "I died on that base."

Edward pulled back from her, loosening his hold just enough to lean back and see her face. He wasted no words on softening his response. "Yes." To her intense relief, he did not release her entirely. She never wanted him to let her go again, and she kept her hands fisted in the back of his shirt even as she tilted her chin up to meet his eyes.

Kathryn pondered what his answer meant for those she'd left behind. A dull glaze settled over the film of tears still coating her eyes. Her throat went dry, and her gaze dropped away from his. "Then I failed," she whispered. "I couldn't open the rift."

He was smiling gently, bringing a single hand up to smooth over the tousled hair on the top of her head. His other arm still wrapped around her firmly. "No one wins them all, Goldenbird. Not even you."

Her throat burned as tears threatened to well up anew at the sound of his voice…_his_ voice…calling her by the term of endearment she'd once lived to hear. The captain's eyes closed in tormented bliss. She'd craved this…oh, how she had craved this…

But she didn't deserve it. "I'm sorry." Her face burrowed into the material of his jacket again, and she closed her eyes in an effort to stem the flow of tears. Her efforts were largely futile; the tears came anyway. "I'm sorry I couldn't hold on."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I…wanted you to be proud of me."

The hand stroking her hair stilled. "I thought we settled this, Kathryn." Then, she felt his strong fingers sliding down to firmly cup her chin, and Edward tilted his daughter's face up to him, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I've always been proud of you. More than I ever thought possible."

Again, the inward battle raged. She basked in his approval yet simultaneously rejected it. With every ounce of strength she had within her, Kathryn pushed free from the haven of his arms and turned away.

The forest was cooler now – only by a few degrees, but enough to make her almost chilly. The sky had darkened over the thick canopy of leaves, and the breeze picked up strength. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself and miserably admitted, "I'm not so sure you should be – proud of me, that is."

"And why is that, Kathryn?" He didn't try to follow her or make any move to draw her back to him but spoke quietly to her from his place at the edge of the clearing. "Why shouldn't I be proud of my amazing little girl?"

Oh, so many reasons…where did she begin? Telling her father all the ways in which she'd likely disappointed him was hard: as hard as giving the order to send a member of her crew into imminent danger. She'd lived much of her childhood in fear of the first, and the bulk of her adulthood avoiding the second. But it never occurred to her to withhold her answer. She wouldn't hide the truth from him, even if it cost her the sweet balm of his approval. He'd taught her better than that.

"I didn't get them home," she admitted, still feeling the chill through the added buffer of her own arms crossed over her chest. "I didn't protect them." Vague memories of a dark and dingy room sparked within her consciousness. "I tried, but I…"

And then the images grew, sprung to life around her, around them both, and the forest was no more. Instead, they were standing in the living tableau of her memory. Visions of meeting Benzas for the first time grew in size until it was as though Kathryn and her father were standing on the smoking, devastated deck of the Oncaveat ship. Piles of corpses, some no more than children, surrounded them. Desecrated, defiled and lifeless. The screams of those still being tormented rang in the thick, acrid air. Both Janeways watched on in silence. They saw her hands, through the eyes of her own memory, pulling a hideous Jehnz-yin soldier off of one screaming woman. Felling another soldier as he bent over a fallen man with his knife raised high above him…

Chakotay's face in the ready room as the memory Kathryn's voice filled the air, sounding determined and resolute. "We have to help them. We're in this now. I won't just stand by and watch these people continue to suffer." Chakotay's subsequent argument was half-hearted at best. The approval in his dark, trusting eyes clear could be seen despite the attention to duty he fulfilled in pointing out that she would be violating the Prime Directive.

The scenes of her memory continued to flash around them, changing from one location to another without warning. The summit and her decision then. Hedri's voice telepathically resonating in their minds. Welcoming and instructing. Cautioning and thanking. Encouraging…

Back on the ship, making her way down the deck with purposeful strides. "I'm going to try and divert their attention from Voyager. I'm taking the Flyer, and I'll draw what fire I can. Use the distraction to get the ship to safety."

The red alert klaxons blaring, blinking red patterns across his sorrowful face as he struggled to keep up with her while walking sideways to face her. "This isn't necessary. There's no guarantee they'll go after a shuttle. It's Voyager they want."

"Maybe." Another lie of omission. Another compromise of her morals. Truth, usually held sacred between them, deliberately sacrificed to serve the ship. "But we're running out of options, and you know it. I have to try."

"Why does it have to be you? You're needed here. Let Tom take the shuttle. He's the better pilot…"

"Exactly. That's why we need him here. This decision is mine to make, and I've made it. Tuvok agrees with me." Not looking at him. Not able to look him directly in the eyes. "I have to go. I have to speak with Benzas before I leave, and you're needed on the bridge. Take care of my ship, Commander."

The turbolift doors closing on the sight of his confused, hurt face…

And then they were in the prison cell. Harry crouched before them in chains, battered and alone. Eyes hollow, his face accusing, tormented as he stared back at them/her. Neelix hanging limply from his bonds. Blood, filth, unimaginable suffering. The stench of rotting flesh. Evil.

Rage, a red mist. She saw images of a hand out in front of her, holding a phaser…_her_ hand…_her_ phaser. Felling soldier after soldier. Taking ruthless aim and pressing down on the trigger button again and again. No remorse. No hesitation. Only satisfaction and purpose.

Taunting. Humiliation. Tongues burning, slithering along her exposed flesh. Fear. Disgust. Claws digging, scratching, invading. Fear. Hatred. Pain, again and again. Despair. Giving up.

The tightness in Edward's voice was audible. "You did what you felt you had to do," he managed.

"Does that make it right?"

No answer. None was needed.

That was it. The playback of memory faded, and the forest reappeared around them. She stood with her arms wrapped around herself, her head bowed against the hearty wind.

"Do you know why you're here with me now, Kathryn?"

Her head lifted, her eyes widening in confusion. "I died."

"Yes, but that isn't what I mean. In the end, the choice was ultimately yours."

She finally turned back to him, believing that she understood. "Yes. I decided to take the shuttle. And when Neelix and Harry were captured, I decided to–"

"No, Kathryn. That's still not what I mean."

The air shimmered, and the transparent figure of Garan Xi looming over her smaller figure on the dirty Jehnz-yin floor appeared between father and daughter. Kathryn forced herself to watch and not think about the difficulty her father had watching this also as the general was pulled from her, and then Benzas was holding her. And Chakotay's voice was calling her, telling her to hang on…begging her to do so.

It hurt to watch. And the pain in Chakotay's tortured voice…in both men's voices…cut into her like one of Xi's knives, sharp and unforgiving. _She_ had done that to them. _Her_ choices had caused the open anguish in the scene before her. Necessary? Kathryn had thought so. She watched through the impartial eyes of the onlooker – her father this time, she supposed – as the representative of her made the choice to succumb to the temptation of non-being.

And Kathryn realized that she'd given up…perhaps before that moment, if she was truly honest with herself. She lifted her eyes to the steel blue-grey orbs across from her and read nothing but compassion there even as self hatred overwhelmed her. "I gave up," she spat. Disgusted at the conscious admission that was wrung from her under the truth serum of her father's steady gaze.

"Why?" The question was soft, devoid of accusation. Admiral Janeway knew very well that his reproach wasn't warranted: Kathryn had always been harder on herself than he could ever have been. Edward had spent long stretches of the beginning of eternity contemplating whether or not it was his fault that his daughter was so uncompromisingly harsh in her self-assessment sometimes. Others had eventually helped him see that it no longer mattered, because nothing could be changed now, and it wasn't meant to be. It simply _was_. So, in patient silence, he awaited her answer to his question.

"The pain was too much." Kathryn's face was streaked with bitter tears, her nose sniffling and eyes red-rimmed and irritated as she stared at the ground. "I thought I could handle it. I thought I could handle anything – _would _handle anything to safeguard them, but…" She lifted her eyes back to her father's face, seeking something she wasn't sure he could give her at the final admission of the result of her decisions.

"But?" he prompted softly. Compassionately, and yet somehow unmercifully.

_This_, she thought with an odd sense of satisfaction. This was the father she knew. Trusted. She recalled saying to the vicious alien who had impersonated Edward that her father had never shielded her from life, and therefore, she didn't believe that he would ever try to shield her from death…

And indeed, it seemed he wouldn't.

"But what, Kathryn?"

She swallowed thickly. "But the cost was too great. Greater than I imagined. I gave up. I couldn't…no." She shivered as the air grew colder. Icier. "I didn't want to hold on anymore." Her heart felt like cold stone freezing within her chest. The tears had dried. Only a hollow sense of emptiness remained. "I didn't _want_ to…" The horror and the shame of that knowledge was her undoing. She sank to her knees in the moist peat beneath her as Edward finally moved forward and sat beside her. "I didn't want to endure another second of the hell I went through in that room. In that quadrant…"

He watched her hands move listlessly about, as though seeking something, and he was certain she was unaware that they were doing so.

"I didn't want…it was hard," she admitted. Her voice shook as her breath came in great, heaping gulps. "It was so hard, Daddy. I tried to do everything, to be everything you and Starfleet wanted me to be. I tried to uphold the Prime Directive, to do what was right, no matter what the odds against us in doing so. I tried to maintain my distance from my crew, to give them a pristine example they could learn from, be proud of. I tried to be what everyone needed me to be. I tried to be leader, mother, friend, daughter...all the while damned well aware that I could never cross the line between captain and whatever role it was that I was expected to play."

"That's the burden of command, Kathryn," he reminded her – sternly, to her biased ears. "You knew all of this about the job before you took it."

Her eyes blazed with a sudden fire as she focused fully on him at last. "Yes – I did. But no one has ever been completely cut off from contact from Starfleet headquarters like we were."

Edward recognized the resentment boiling over just in time to sit back on his heels before the explosion…

"I had no backup, no support! No one to turn to for help to feed my starving crew when my principles forced me to ignore less ethical, but almost certain means of doing so. There were no orders to fall back on, no precedents to follow…no reinforcements when our enemies came at us in droves…it was _hard_, damn it! Just what the hell did you all expect me to do out there?"

The questions were as obviously rhetorical as they were frustration induced. Edward noticed that her lower lip was trembling after her outburst, and she seemed surprised at herself for having erupted so strongly. Kathryn probably hadn't realized the depth of her own resentment, he realized. She did now, though. Another tiny sob was wrenched from her, even as he watched her fight it with every ounce of her being. Again, he drew her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her as she rocked slightly back and forth against him. "Let it out, Kathryn. You don't have to be the captain here, you know."

Another sob escaped. He'd hit the nail on the head with great accuracy, and they both knew it. "It was killing me," she admitted. "I tried so hard to hold to my principles, to make you and Starfleet proud. I tried to maintain my distance. But it was so hard…"

"You made it harder on yourself, as usual. They were there, Kathryn. They were there for you all along."

He held her, comforting her even as he spared her no truths, no matter how harsh they seemed now. "Protocol isn't something by which you can guide every aspect of your life. It wasn't ever meant to be. And it wasn't principle you were upholding when you kept them all at such an arms length. It was…"

"Fear," she admitted, finishing the statement for him. "I was afraid I'd lose them. Lose them all if I cared for them. If I really let them in…I didn't think that I could face it if I lost one of them after letting myself care for them like that. I was afraid that I'd collapse like I did after…" she trailed off, tensing, as though afraid to open a new floodgate.

Edward did it for her. "After Justin and I left you," he prodded gently.

It was too much – all of it. The losses, the agonies. The silent breaking over the years and then the acknowledgement of a hurt that had never fully healed stripped her of speech entirely. For long moments, she only wept uncontrollably into his shirt again, dimly aware that his uniform jacket and even the shirt underneath it were both soaked in her grief.

"Shh," he repeated, over and over, holding her as his own tears flowed freely. "Shh. I'm here now."

"How could I have done it? How could I have left them?" she was asking after a moment. Edward stilled at the question. "How could I have given up on them…abandoned them when I…"

"When you know what that feels like? Knew how much your crew loved you, even though you repeatedly told yourself they only respected you as a leader?" Her answer was another round of muffled sobs. "I know, Kathryn. Let it out," Edward soothed her, still holding on to his beloved little girl.

She needed to get this out – as much as he needed to be here for her as he hadn't been able to be for far too many years, many of those years in which he'd been alive. They _both_ needed for him to hold her while she exorcised the many demons that had haunted her for so long.

"How could I have let them go so easily?" He didn't answer her but merely listened to her erratic, hiccupping breathing and allowed her to vent the years of pent-up pain in his arms. "They never gave up on me, you know," she was telling him. "There were times when I couldn't even recognize myself in the woman doing the things I've done under the justification of getting them home. There were times when I'd given up on myself, and yet they never…" She trailed off and finally gave in to pure grief.

And for a seeming eternity, they sat there like that, with her huddled against him and him cradling her like he had when she was a child.

After a time, he became aware of a familiar presence. Edward went still as he glanced up into the forest, detecting the approaching figure long before he heard the strong voice echoing throughout the forest glade…

"The question you should be asking, Kathryn, is not why you have come," a thunderous, unknown voice filled the entire canopy, startling her out of her miserable daze. "The question you should be asking is what you're going to do about it now."

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Chakotay didn't respond, for he heard nothing of the words spoken to him, felt none of the searching grip closing over his left arm. He gathered up the limp, lifeless form that was all that was left of the woman who had claimed ownership of his heart…his soul…for nearly the last five years.

The heart and the soul which were gone now. She'd taken it with her into death, and the bleak desolation she'd left behind was astonishing. Staggering. As the icy, bitter knowledge of the loss permeated his consciousness, the denial receded, and Chakotay knew pain in ways he hadn't ever imagined he could know it.

And he'd imagined – had felt – quite a bit of pain in his lifetime. He'd thought he could handle this. Had told himself that if the time came for him to lift Kathryn Janeway's lifeless body into his arms to take back to her ship, to face their people with his ultimate failure to safeguard her, he would be able to work through it, in the end. For her. For the ship.

But he saw now how arrogant, how unbelievably deluded that had been of him. He saw, too late…

He saw nothing but her, could discern not a single nuance of his living companions, even though they were scarcely centimeters away from him right now. Only _she_ filled his vision. The commander had already memorized every bruise on her pallid skin, every laceration and bite mark marring it. He would have them removed, he decided grimly. Distantly. He would have every remnant of what she'd endured in this room erased from her body before they…

He wasn't a soft man. He didn't cry at the drop of a hat or even at the tougher losses, but tears were streaming, unchecked down his face, scalding him. Burning – it was the only thing he could feel.

Until he became cognizant, quite accidentally, of a hand gripping his arm, halting his determined progress out of this alien hell. His eyes flashed. With what, he couldn't guess. There was nothing in him anymore. But the threat to his retrieval of Kathryn's body had definitely captured his attention.

"What are you doing?" Benzas was demanding urgently, daring to look the human in the face as he posed his ridiculous question.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" On the surface, Chakotay's voice was emotionless, but it held the undercurrent of a subtle threat. "I'm taking her back to the ship. I doubt…" he paused, forcing himself to keep his last, pathetic hopes at bay lest it destroy even his ability to function physically when the foolish hope was inevitably destroyed. "I doubt our doctor can do anything for her, but he has brought people back before. There might…" He stopped, ready to move again, catching control of himself just barely. "I'm taking her back to the ship," he finished firmly.

"No. You'll never make it. _She'll_ never make it."

Chakotay didn't even spare another thought for the man. He turned to the door and began walking, shifting his precious bundle ever so gently to get a better grip on her as he moved. It was beyond belief to him when the senator swung around into his path, again obstructing the commander from achieving his goal.

"Listen to me, Commander. You have to put her back down."

The hell he would. "No." It was absurd. He'd release Kathryn…Kathryn's body…to no one save the chief medical officer of Voyager. "I'm taking her out of here." The words "too late" fell silently as though he'd spoken them aloud.

But Benzas was insistent. He did not move from Chakotay's path, even as his eyes glazed over and he withdrew into some hidden inner world the human couldn't begin to fathom…and didn't care to.

Until now, she had been quiet, lost in her own musings, but at the sound of spoken voices, Shasta Accor glanced to Benzas, the source of her good fortune all those years ago. He was standing between the human male and the door…and she started upon noting for the first time that he was glowing. _Glowing._ Every muscle in her body tensed with muted joy. She _knew_ that glow. It was the unmistakable indication that he was in the initial stages of facilitation.

A rift. A rift was opening…here. _Now_. Without Janeway.

Of course it was. Being linked with Benzas, Shasta now possessed his knowledge. She gradually became aware of Hedri, who had been on the fringes of the senator's consciousness this whole time. Shasta's remorse at having been too late to save Kathryn and her abject terror at meeting Garan Xi once again had kept the Oncaveat senator from properly acknowledging the presence of the Unani representative.

But now she was aware. This was no freak accident: it had been the plan all along. The Unani had reached the centennial apex of their power. There was enough of it to open two rifts, and Janeway had been planning to open this one.

A thrill surged through Shasta. Here. At the most powerful base of the hated Jehnz-yin military. Osalik, their pride and joy – the center of their ship-building efforts. Tens of thousands of soldiers lived on this moon. It was from this location, more than any other, that the hideous attacks on her people were hatched, organized, and set into motion. It was the perfect choice. She vaguely wondered why her people had not thought of it before, but then…the Oncaveat had not been meant for war. They certainly hadn't bred for it, as the Jehnz-yi had…

Janeway had trained for it, Shasta realized, as Benzas's and Hedri's intimate knowledge of the deceased alien leader swirled through her awareness. Janeway's people loved peace, above all else, but they had recognized the need for preparedness as they ventured out into the vast galaxy on a noble quest for scientific knowledge. Janeway had analyzed the Oncaveat situation, as she had been trained to do, and she had arrived at the answer to their problems. And she had been willing to sacrifice herself to see the plan carried out.

But it was a rift that wouldn't open all the way. It was one that would kill the facilitator as she was caught up in the center of the physically altered space. She, and now, in this case, he. Benzas. Benzas would make the sacrifice now.

Only in this instance and under these specific circumstances could the rift still be possible after the facilitator's death. If they hadn't chosen a facilitator who needed a bondmate to support her link with Hedri, opening this rift would no longer be an option after Janeway's death, but they _had_ chosen a human. It _was_ still possible.

They hadn't failed…yet.

They'd only failed Janeway. Janeway's people. They'd only cost them their most valued asset: their leader.

_I cannot, Benzas. Please don't ask it of me! _Hedri sounded distinctly agitated, drawing Shasta's attention to the internal dialogue between Benzas and the Unani female.

_You can. You must! Or I will break the link – I swear it on all that I am!_

_What you are asking is no simple matter, as it was with Shasta. Healing is one thing. Bringing back one who has crossed over is another thing, altogether!_

_But you can do it?_ The demand resonated fiercely through Accor's mind as Benzas pressed his case. _It is possible? _

Shasta could only sit in stunned silence. What her old, dear friend was suggesting was radical. It had never been done – at least not to this extent. But if it _could_ be done…

_Not without cost, Benzas! Not without great cost to your efforts. Your people…our children….have waited so long for this moment. They have waited so long for the peace you were meant to live in. You cannot throw away this remarkable opportunity for the sake of one woman! Kathryn knew the risks. She accepted them. She would not want this!_

She couldn't believe she was going to say this. Shasta could not believe the words that were going to come out of her mind… _But can it be _done_, Hedri?_ _Is it possible?_

There was a moment's pause.

_In theory, yes. With her cooperation. And it will require a sacrifice I do not believe your people can afford to make, Shasta. I urge you to consider the risks involved. Need I remind you of the oath you both swore to protect your people above all else?_

Shasta had moved to stand at Benzas's side, obstructing Chakotay's path with her own body, also, without realizing it. _But it can be done?_

Another pause, this one decidedly stony, before: _yes. In theory, it can be done._

Shasta's eyes met Benzas's. She nodded her agreement with his plan. _Then do it. Save her. _To Chakotay, she said aloud, "If you want her to live, Commander, we have no more time. We believe we can save her, but you must set her down. Quickly, before we lose everything."

* * *

**Anyone who is still with me by this point...I commend you :P. And to everyone who has taken the time to leave a comment or review: thank you. It means a great deal whenever someone takes the time to let me know what they think. Your collective kindness has been greatly appreciated. **

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	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer**: They are not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers.

Chapter Twenty-Two

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

He hadn't thought it would hurt this much. He hadn't thought it was possible to feel such a huge, gut-wrenching hole torn right through his heart. His insides were never supposed to scream out in such bitter agony. It wasn't supposed to feel like half of his soul had been carved out of his body, but that was what Chakotay felt as he held the cold, limp body of Kathryn Janeway in his arms. It was all he had left of her.

And now the people who (in his mind, at least) bore partial responsibility for ripping her away from him wanted him to give that up, too.

"Commander, please! You'll only have another minute before no one can approach me at all."

He barely heard Benzas's words through the bitter fog of grief.

They couldn't take her from him by force. If he refused, the way his mind screamed for him to do, they'd never be able to wrench her from his grasp. He knew it. He looked at them now. One of them…the worst culprit, Benzas…was glowing. What kind of creature glowed with an aura of slowly increasing light? Certainly no trustworthy creature Chakotay had ever encountered.

"You have no reason to trust me, I know," Benzas continued to plead, ignoring the dark snort from the grief-stricken human, "but _she_ did; Kathryn trusted me."

She had. It burned now to acknowledge this. Knowing that she had trusted this man more than she had trusted him, her supposed close friend…

"She trusted me. You _know_ she did. But I'm not asking you to trust _me_. I'm only asking you to trust _her_. Please, if you want her to come back to you, you _have to put her down_."

Trust her, the Oncaveat said.

_Did_ he trust her? Did he trust her judgment? Chakotay found it odd that he had to stop and ponder this question at all. Four years ago, the answer might have been yes, three years, even two…but now? There had been mistakes made on both sides. With regard to others, who'd seemed to be one thing and proven to be another. Seska. Riley. Arturus. Kashyk. With regard to each other. The Borg and Species 8472…

Kathryn had made far fewer errors in judgment than Chakotay had, and that was especially true regarding those she allowed to earn her friendship. Even he had to admit that. Chakotay didn't trust Benzas. But Kathryn had.

"Trust her, Commander," Benzas intoned, his voice fraught with a pained urgency, "trust Kathryn." Large, imploring amber eyes held fast to the human's face. "_Please_. Her life depends on it."

But did he trust her? After everything that had happened? Knowing what he now knew, could he still trust her enough to risk the only thing he had left of her?

In the end, the answer was simple. Chakotay never uttered a word, and not once did his gaze waver from her expressionless face while he made his decision.

He set her down.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

The figure was not quite solid, though it drew more sharply into focus as it approached the clearing where Kathryn and her father stood.

"Well?" it demanded, its masculine voice strangely losing its power as it came closer. "Did you hear me? I asked what you intend to do now, Captain."

He…was it a he?…had very little by way of features to distinguish him. He simply looked…humanoid, Kathryn decided, sweeping her inquisitive gaze over his shape. His eyes were the most expressive things about him. Dark and warm, they rather reminded her of another pair of dark eyes… The unwelcome comparison alone had her demanding, "Who are you?"

The shadowy silver form laughed out loud at the suspicious look on her face. "Kathryn Janeway," he noted with obvious glee. "I've waited a long time to meet you."

Janeway turned to her father, one eyebrow rising quizzically. Edward did not meet her eyes, but that her father was completely at ease before the strange new arrival wasn't lost on her.

"Forgive me, Kathryn," the figure smiled, "but there's really no answer I can give you that will satisfy that remarkably cynical, scientific mind of yours."

Kathryn scoffed, completely ignoring the back-handed compliment. "If that's your way of telling me you're supposed to be God, then I'm afraid–"

"No," he cut in over her, "it isn't. If I'd wanted to say that, I would have." Something in his tone spoke directly to the captain in her, and the effect of this was humbling enough to silence her for some unknown reason. "Who I am isn't important. Time is too short."

The figure exchanged a meaningful look with the admiral, who bowed his head in understanding. Turning to pull his startled daughter into an impromptu embrace, he whispered into her ear, "I have to go now, Kathryn."

The finality in his voice hit her hard, creeping tendrils of dread seizing around her heart. She clung to his shirt as he pulled back, gasping in dismay to discover that the material, like him, was no longer quite so solid. It seemed to pass through her fingertips, and she whispered, "You aren't coming back, are you?"

Edward's hand brushed lightly against her cheek. "That's up to you," he responded, not particularly enlighteningly, "and I know you'll make the right decision." She didn't know what he meant by that, but the sad twinkle in his familiar blue-grey eyes said everything for him anyway. "One more thing, Kathryn. You never disappointed me." He gave a rueful little chuckle even as his outline faded into the background. "Scared me, yes. Frightened me, made me question my sanity once or twice from sheer worry, yes… But never, ever have you disappointed me."

He was fading. Almost gone. It wasn't _fair_.

"Daddy, wait…" she tried, desperate not to lose him again so soon. Damn it, it always seemed too soon…

She hadn't indulged in this kind of display since she was a child, but under the circumstances, she felt understandably entitled. She was unable to help trying to cling to his wispy form despite knowing that it was futile...

"I know you'll do the right thing."

Edward's voice carried on the swell of the breeze, but he was gone.

Angry tears formed in her eyes, but Kathryn held them somewhat in check; only a few made it past her furiously blinking eyes to trail down her face. She whirled to confront the presence she still sensed standing behind her. Sure enough, the shadowy figure remained. Like her father seconds before he'd disappeared entirely, she could make out the forest behind him through his wispy frame.

"Where did he go?" she demanded coldly. "Where have you sent my father?"

"_He_ went nowhere. We're the ones who left."

His evasiveness was infuriating, and she barely kept her ire contained. "I don't understand."

The forest, to her amazement, began to fade as well, but this transformation was much swifter. The bitter cold returned in an icy blast, and darkness fell like a thick blanket, obscuring everything else. Light and sound were absent. She felt weightless and yet heavier-hearted with each passing second… "What are you doing?" When silence greeted her even as the faint twinkling of distant stars began to illuminate her surroundings, she growled in frustration, "Damn it, will you tell me who you are and what's going on?"

A sigh breathed through her. It was a strange sensation. "Kathryn, I know you hate not knowing what's going on. In fact, I know you better than you know yourself…but you will have to trust me when I say you're seeking answers you can't possibly be made to understand."

"I don't accept that," she growled. "_Tell_ _me where we are_."

"I ought to have known that wouldn't work with you." His laughter rippled through her, prickling her ire even further. "Very well," the strange creature sighed. "I should think it obvious that we're in space. But as to your next question," he continued before she could voice the words on the tip of her tongue, "the exact coordinates will mean nothing to you. We're in a part of space your kind doesn't access."

That got her attention. "My kind?"

"Humanoids," he supplied. "Four dimensional beings."

"_Four _dimensional?"

"That's what I said."

She'd been wondering whether the unknown creature was being deliberately obnoxious. Now she knew he was, and that certainly fit the profile of _one_ hypothesis she'd been working on. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you a Q?"

"_No_."

Janeway felt his distaste wash over her and gasped inwardly at the strength of it. She'd thought she had despised Q, but it was nothing to the abhorrence she could feel coming from…well…she hadn't quite gotten his name, had she?

"Why don't you call me John," he offered, a hint of amusement carrying through in his musical tone.

"John?" She was less surprised to find he was a telepath than she was at the suggestion and blinked at his choice. "Why?"

"I like it." She sensed the equivalent of a shrug from him. "It's friendly and simple. And it's not as pretentious as a letter of the alphabet or some quaint concept that sounds important, yet carries no relevant meaning."

"Fine." As her annoyance grew, Janeway's hands found her hips without her conscious awareness. "You have no intention of _actually_ answering any of my questions, do you, John?"

He reappeared in front of her, still silvery, translucent shadow but brilliant and glowing, this time. Kathryn put a hand up to shield her eyes – he was that blinding.

"I told you. There are no answers I can give you that you will find satisfying."

She lowered her hand as her eyes adjusted to the light, taking a few exploratory steps forward on…nothing. "I don't accept that," she repeated in as hard a voice as she had used the first time she'd told him this.

"And why not? Pride, I assume," he answered his own question before she could even ponder a response. "You asked your holographic Da Vinci to accept that there were things in this universe beyond his comprehension. Is it so hard for you to do the same, Captain?"

Yes. It was. She couldn't help feeling he knew this and knew how she felt about him knowing it, too. She swallowed, feeling her pride just barely go down past the lump of annoyance in her throat. "Then what is this all about? What am I doing here? Why can't I go wherever it is that my father went?"

"You can. But first, you have a choice to make, Kathryn. And there isn't much time."

"A choice? What kind of a choice? Is this a test of some–"

"Good heavens, no. No tests. Only choices, Captain. There's someone who needs to speak with you. She'll explain it better than I can."

She felt the familiar presence long before the magnificent being took corporeal form before her astonished eyes. Kathryn thought she had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

She felt the same love, the same acceptance and goodness flowing through her that she had at the initial summit. "John" remained, but even his bright luminescence paled in comparison to the large, heat-giving being beside him. It shimmered and pulsed, breathed and whispered. All the colors of the spectrum were represented in all possible variations and strengths. The mass of…what looked to Janeway to be fleshy energy with curling wisps formulating at the edges…had lights swirling together to form its center. It was breathtaking.

"Hedri," Janeway whispered in recognition. "You're…" the captain paused, looking for the appropriate word, "well, I'm afraid beautiful doesn't quite cover it." She shook her head, a half smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "It's good to finally meet you in person…so to speak."

"I'm afraid I'm not entirely here, either, Kathryn," the Unani replied softly. "I wish we had more time for pleasantries and the explanations I know you crave, but we don't. Our time grows very short. You _must_ come back with me – immediately."

Now she was at a loss. "Go back with you?" Janeway repeated blankly. "Back _where_, exactly?"

"Osalik."

She hated that the word made her blanch but couldn't control it, nonetheless. "I…I'm sorry," she spluttered. "I don't understand. How can I? I'm _dead_." When Hedri said nothing, Janeway stole a dubious glance at John. "Aren't I?" she asked in a less certain voice.

"As a doornail," he confirmed.

The expression didn't faze her. Janeway turned back to Hedri. "Then how…are you going to show me something there? Something I'm meant to…?"

"No. We're taking you back. Back to your _body_, Kathryn."

Comprehension finally dawned. "Back to _life_, you mean?" Janeway's jaw hit the nonexistent ground even as her eyebrows reached for the equally absent ceiling. "You can do that? _How_?"

"We're using the rift. It's the same principle to link this dimension with the one you've left behind as it is to link my peoples' space with that same dimension."

"The dimension you call living," John clarified.

"We're going to use one of them to draw you back to Osalik, where your body is."

"You're going to _try_," John corrected calmly, "and we _assume_ you'll succeed, but it's not been done before. There's no way of knowing."

"Wait a minute." Kathryn held up a hand to halt the enigmatic discourse between the two powerful beings. Neither creature seemed to question how the comparatively limited woman had managed it, but both fell silent at her sharp tone. She pointed to John. "_You_ brought me here. Reunited me with my father. Introduced yourself, showed me all of this…your realm, I assume, or whatever this place is. You _allowed me to accept the fact that I died_. And now, the two of you are telling me – after all of this – that you want me to _go_ _back_?"

"That's about it," John nodded, again, not physically that Kathryn could see, but she felt his action anyway.

"You'd be going back to just a few moments after your death. I'll re-infuse your life force with your physical body, but Kathryn, I want you to understand. I won't be able to heal much of the damage you suffered."

It was then that Janeway understood the reluctance she'd felt from Hedri all along. The full weight of what she was being asked to do hit her hard, and she swallowed thickly, remembering the amount of pain she'd been in. Her injuries, both mental and physical, had been simply unendurable. In fact, she'd given up on bearing them once.

"I won't take you if you're not willing," Hedri supplied. "But consider this: it's no longer a possibility for one of the rifts to be opened. I've used too much energy to come here. If you don't come back now, then we've already wasted at least one of the Oncaveats' opportunities to be rid of the Jehnz-yi forever, and we will have gained nothing for the loss."

Well, when she put it that way…but anger coursed through the captain at the knowledge that Hedri had chosen her…a single life…over potentially hundreds or thousands of innocent Oncaveat lives.

"Why?" Kathryn breathed. "Why in the universe would you have sacrificed one of those rifts for _me_? You _know_ I'd never have agreed to that!"

"Benzas wants you to return," came the startling and curt response. "He refused to conduct the rift unless I tried to bring you back."

"Damn him," Janeway swore at once, realizing that the senator hadn't been able to overlook his personal feelings for her after all. She'd been afraid of that. "I thought he understood that there wasn't any other…" she went stark white and trailed off in mid-speech as the rest of Hedri's statement penetrated. "He's facilitating the rift…he _touched_ me," she realized aloud, knowing this would have been the only way he could facilitate a rift that she herself had started. As her bondmate, Benzas could have held open the rift that she had initiated, but only through direct physical contact with her skin. "Before I died, he touched me. He's there. At Osalik…"

"Yes. He's holding the rift."

She felt faint. "But…he's at the base? How did he…?"

"Chakotay got him through."

Her stomach twisted into unbelievable knots, and Kathryn's eyes slammed shut in pure horror. "_No,_" she whispered, shaking her head as though it would somehow change what she had heard. "No. He wouldn't take Voyager there. He _knows _better. He wouldn't have –"

"They did not take Voyager," Hedri interrupted the captain's thoughts rather impatiently, "and please, Kathryn, we're running out of time. _Can you do this_?"

Her mind whirled. Chakotay was in danger. He'd deliberately risked his life to save her…which meant he'd left Voyager. But Voyager needed him. Damn it. He had to be convinced to go back before he was hurt – or worse. They all needed _her_, now, thanks to what Chakotay had done….

Thanks to what _she_ had done, Janeway amended automatically, her head bowing for a moment in shame. And he knew now. He knew she'd lied, that she'd intended to be caught. Chakotay knew everything.

And Benzas wanted to take her place. They were both risking their lives to bring her back, but…

Kathryn silently regarded the beautiful creature before her, her mind awash with all she'd just been told. Considering all that she'd experienced in the last few…hours? Or had it only been minutes? There was no way of knowing. The point was that she hadn't even begun to process any of it, and what they were asking of her now…

Was actually quite simple, even if it was monumentally difficult to contemplate having to do. Go back and finish what she had started. She could send Benzas back with Chakotay. Order him to leave her… order them both, and then facilitate the rift…

Even as she thought it, Kathryn knew neither man would let that happen. Their action of coming after her made that very clear.

They were bringing her back, back to hellish pain and to face the man she had so dreadfully wronged. She'd have to deal with both the agony her body had been suffering and also with the shame of what she'd done by not informing Chakotay of her plan. Ultimately, she'd been a coward in not telling him. He'd had a right to know…

And Benzas would die now, instead of her.

Her gut twisted in anger. In remorse. She should refuse…

"I thought you might need a little help in deciding swiftly," John broke into her thoughts without effort, his voice cutting over her internal argument, "so I want you to experience something. I think it'll be quite enlightening for you, Captain."

He'd moved forward, enveloping her without warning. One minute he'd been standing before her in the open plain of space, and the next he'd expanded to encompass her completely. The silvery light caressed over her then through her, filling her at the subatomic level, and Kathryn was overwhelmed…

Until she felt the pain. Horrible, gut wrenching agony. Worse, in some ways, than that which she had endured. Her shoulder ripped open, the muscle tissue and skin pulverized. Her eye burned. She'd lost all sight in it. Her finger ached, though she knew it was no longer attached to her body… Neelix. She was in Neelix's consciousness…or memory, somehow. She saw herself appear, through the Talaxian's good eye, and she felt the intense relief the mere sight of her face had wrought in him. Relief for himself, and fear for her.

The tears began to form in her eyes. She'd had no idea Neelix had been trying so hard to shield _her_ from danger. Despite everything he'd been enduring, at least initially, his only thoughts had been for her and Harry…and Neelix had taken one look at her face, and he'd never questioned that she would get him out of there. Not before, but certainly not after she'd tricked her way into the building and stood between him and his tormentors.

She'd had no idea he had _that_ kind of faith in her.

There was an abrupt shift, and suddenly, anger took hold. She was in a cell, shackled to the wall. More pain, but the physical was really only minor. She listened to the taunts of a lone Jehnz-yin soldier as he activated a viewscreen which displayed Neelix's tortured form, and the anger swelled. It quickly boiled away into relief. Her own face appeared before her again, but it was her face as Harry had seen it at the time. Calculating. Uncompromising. Hard. She watched herself unshackle her (Harry's) wrists, and then heard herself order him back to the shuttle. He wasn't even allowed to help rescue his friend, nor was he permitted to at least watch his captain's back while she orchestrated the rescue.

Suddenly, she was in the shuttle, and Neelix was behind her, on the floor. Harry's point of view still, she realized, glancing down at his young hands working frantically at the controls, trying to get a lock on the captain…her…desperate, terrified to realize that she hadn't come back with Neelix as she'd promised.

And then the shuttle was powering up. A command sequence, one he couldn't override… She heard herself, in Harry's voice, relating the unfathomable turn of events to the captain… Absolute betrayal flooded him as he heard her response: "I know." Realization that she'd done it on purpose. Disbelief as the Flyer took off, leaving the satellite behind – with the captain still on it. Realizing that it had been her plan all along and that something larger was going on. Something serious enough that she hadn't trusted him with her plans – it was that dangerous. Anger, directed at her, but mostly directed inward. At having been stupid enough, naïve enough not to foresee and prevent the captain from sacrificing herself.

Terror that she was dead, and with her, all hope of making it home. They'd never make it now – not without the woman who was everything to all of them. Helplessness to do a damned thing about it…

"Oh, God," Kathryn breathed as she returned to herself. She'd had no real idea…and then she shifted again, and, this time, she was nearly brought to her knees at the force of emotion which rocked her to the core.

She stood on the bridge, staring at the viewscreen. She saw her worst nightmare come to life as her own body was revealed beneath the tattered cloak, and she felt the pits of hell open up and engulf her when Garan Xi's hands wandered over her bare skin, and then his tongue made contact with the side of her face…

The cold realization that, despite knowing it was wrong and couldn't be, she…_he_…still loved Kathryn Janeway with every fiber of his being.

Chakotay, she realized. This was Chakotay's point of view.

She barely heard Xi give the false offer to release Voyager's captain in exchange for her crew's surrender. The knowledge that Kathryn was as good as dead – once the foul creatures tired of tormenting and defiling her, of course – washed over her. _Him_.

And then the most potent rage any human being had ever experienced exploded within her, a conflagration of her entire being.

Images of the devastation of her planet, Dorvan. Scorched. Annihilated. With it, her parents and sisters. Murdered in cold blood. Starfleet's betrayal and joining with the Maquis. Participating in raids and as time passed, directing them. Rescuing friends from Cardassian prison camps. Seeing the brutalized remains of both the dead and of the barely living. And now, Kathryn's face replacing the faces of the victims of that brutality.

The rage grew until it burned into the coldest of nights, and then any peace she'd ever been able to make with the horrors of her past died a brutal death.

Resurrection of a warrior, but without the freedom to exact revenge. Bound to the ship. Chained to duty.

She heard herself (in Chakotay's strong voice) order Tuvok to turn off the viewer.

This was Chakotay's experience over the last twelve hours, she numbly acknowledged again during the split second between another shift in time periods. But the overwhelming knowledge of what he felt for her, still...and the depth of what seeing her in Xi's hands had done to his soul weren't allowed to be processed yet.

Benzas before him in the conference room. Telling Chakotay that this had been purposeful. Kathryn had lied. Deliberately put herself into this position and withheld the knowledge of it from him. Knowing that he'd never, ever let her do it. Not this. Not this way. Jealousy. Hatred for the creature before him, who had known, had, in fact, _encouraged_ this horrendous undertaking. Exploding outward in cold fury, and the hollow satisfaction of planting his fist into the man's face.

Dead inside. Fueled by anger. Ordering Harry to destroy the base, with him on it if necessary. Watching Xi and his minions desecrate the woman he loved and draw inexorably closer to violating her spirit as horrifically as they were her body. Her unfiltered screams ripping through him. Killing whatever civility was left in him.

Purpose. The blade unerring and true. Slitting one throat after another, only invigorated by the taking of lives instead of sickened by it.

Tortured. Damned. Driven. Determined to get her out of this place, one way or another.

Hell.

Finally reaching her. Ripping Garan off of her, unable to comprehend the atrocity he'd just borne witness to, even having expected it on some level. Pounding the vile general into the oblivion he wanted to retreat into himself.

Hearing Benzas's anguished moan. Turning and running for her – too late. Gathering her cold body into his arms, begging her not to leave him.

His soul ripped open, bleeding and raw, with no way to fix it now. Half of him gone…not even free to follow her. Again, bound by duty.

Hell.

She was released abruptly from the being who called himself John, and Kathryn fell hard to her knees on the invisible floor. There weren't even tears to shed; they simply wouldn't come. What she felt in that moment was beyond the limited release of crying.

What in heaven's name had she done to him? To all of them?

John had no sympathy. He gave her no time to recover but stood over her, his featureless face and disembodied voice emotionless. "So you'll be leaving us, I presume?"

Her hand splayed desperately across her stomach in an unconscious attempt to alleviate some of the gut-wrenching pain, Kathryn looked up at him and, slowly, she nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered hoarsely – brokenly. "I'm going."

* * *


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one, they're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: Thanks again to all you wonderful reviewers. Many of you have quite a way with words ;)

Chapter Twenty-Three

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

The clever woman. Janeway had known what she was doing all along, after all…for the most part.

Two rifts. One to be used to cripple the mighty Jehnz-yin military. It had been an incredible plan, in theory. Too bad for the Oncaveat that it hadn't worked.

In spite of the plan's failure, the more he learned about the woman called Kathryn Janeway, the more impressed he became with her.

If not for the hope of Janeway's revival, Gerros would have been howling out his bitter defeat by now. If he had dropped in on the source's thoughts any earlier, he might have ordered his guard back to Ghanza Prime upon learning that Janeway had been unable to maintain her tenuous hold on life, and in that instance, he would have cursed his deceased father's name for all of eternity for what had been lost to the chancellor in the woman's death.

He still might.

But the source believed there was a chance, even a good chance, that the human leader could be saved. The chancellor clung to this thought with all his might, willing the connection to hold though beads of sweat banded on his knobby forehead and drops of blood were drawn from his palms as his fingertips curled cruelly into them.

This was always difficult, he reminded himself. It was much harder to pick up on communications between a few individuals than it was to eavesdrop on larger connections, which tended to span greater distances. He was faintly aware that at least two other people were willing this unprecedented attempt to work with all of their might, also.

Careful to keep his thoughts as quiet as possible and to observe rather than to intrude, Gerros also struggled to keep a tight control over his emotions, which wanted to run alternately rampant with excitement and dread.

He had no knowledge of anything else that was happening at Osalik at the moment. The chancellor was so absorbed in his eavesdropping that he couldn't know his guard had encountered difficulty in reaching the building where Janeway was held. He had no concept that the base's soldiers, unaware of Xi's grisly demise, had fought out of instinct and loyalty to keep the moderate troupe of guardsmen from accessing the prized prisoner. Gerros also didn't know that his men, both better trained and equipped than their military counterparts, had been victorious and were now entering the building. They had already secured the exits.

With growing anticipation, he watched through the eyes of his source as the events that would determine his entire race's future unfolded.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

In the cargo bay. Lieutenant Commander Tuvok knelt in a traditional Vulcan meditation pose, eyes closed and unresponsive. If the scores of Oncaveat bystanders crammed into the bay with him were perturbed by his behavior, they didn't show it. Silence blanketed the room as the Vulcan's skin began to glow with a faint hum of iridescent blue light.

Tuvok himself was barely aware of his surroundings. The Unani representative tickled the back of his formidable brain. She'd spoken to him moments ago before leaving him to check on Kathryn, but all the while, he was aware of Hedri's presence in his mind. It was simply a matter of to what degree…

He felt the remorse wash over him first. Hedri had located Janeway's consciousness, but her condition wasn't good. Tuvok barely recognized Senator Benzas screaming out in his mind, distracted as the Vulcan was by the horrific image accompanying the wordless cry. They had reached the captain; against all odds, the commander and the senator had fought their way to her side. And then he felt her. The captain. She was the only truly familiar presence in the jumble of conscious energy within his mind. He had expected this contact to be reassuring, but…

The anguish assailed him now. Hers. Most definitely, it was Kathryn Janeway's sense of failure overwhelming him. Her regret and her guilt. He knew few individuals that carried around such a staggering level of the damaging emotion as the captain of Voyager.

Maintaining control was difficult. The others overwhelmed him…no. He could not allow that. He fought them back, keeping them at an appropriate distance. So many emotions…so much chaos…Tuvok fought for control. It was difficult. He sought her out, using the best techniques he knew to zero in on her and her alone.

One clear thought rose up to him…_tell_ _them the captain sends her regards_. Then he felt her fading from his mind's grasp…

And she was gone.

He needed no time to process what this development meant: again, Benzas instantly provided the answer. His grief tore through the Vulcan with a singular vengeance…

She was _gone_.

Had it been only a matter of suppressing his own expression of grief, he would have managed it. But this was a grief magnified by the sorrow of others, including at least one other who had loved the captain. This was more than one man's grief he struggled to master now, and it took every last ounce of his Vulcan strength to fight the feelings of hopelessness and loss assailing him. And even that was not quite enough, it seemed…

So it was that when his link with Hedri and the others was severed, abruptly and without warning, Tuvok found himself kneeling in the cargo bay, hands still steepled together and a single tear marking a vertical line down his otherwise impassive face.

Reaching up, he brushed at the tickle on his dark cheekbone, shocked to regard the moisture reflecting against his shiny fingertips as he inspected them under the light. He regarded the huge semi-circle of Oncaveat passengers standing, open-mouthed before him.

Slowly, the commander rose to his feet, aware now that the blue light that had been building around his body for the past twenty minutes had disappeared entirely. He had no sense of Hedri or the others. His mind was quiet.

Coupled with the captain's demise, Tuvok's logic told him this could mean only one thing: they had failed.

It now fell to him to devise an alternate plan for getting the Oncaveat to relative safety until the away team could be reunited with Voyager. He reached for his commbadge, startled by the inexplicable shaking of his right hand and tapped the cool metal to open a comm. link. "Tuvok to bridge."

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

Kathryn still had not arisen from the invisible floor. For the most part, her head had been bowed against the tidal wave of emotions that had buffeted her from her three crewmen. Even dying, coming to terms with having given up in the end, and her experiences in whatever this realm was could not compare to the pain she'd felt from each of the three men in turn. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and humbling all at once.

Particularly potent had been the discovery of the depth of her first officer's feelings for her. Janeway had told Benzas that she didn't even know if Chakotay still cared for her. But now? A borderline hysterical huff of laughter escaped her. She knelt, hands splayed flat on the surface either side of her, looking back and forth between Hedri and the one called John. "What do I have to do?" she asked quietly.

_Nothing. I'm going to open the link while I merge with you. It will feel like before, only this time you will see me as we meld. _

Janeway nodded her understanding then looked wistfully to John, who also still stood (or hovered, she wasn't sure which) in front of her. "I don't suppose I can say goodbye to my–"

"Not this time."

Even this crushing disappointment was less painful than dwelling on the rest of her thoughts. And she hadn't supposed she would be allowed to see her father again. Still, it never hurt to hope…

Well, that was a lie; sometimes, it hurt like hell to hope. Especially when those hopes were dashed, but, even so, hope was the only thing that had kept Voyager's crew going in this quadrant.

Janeway found herself remembering the ancient fable about a girl who had foolishly unleashed all of the ills of humanity into the world yet had managed at the last moment to keep from losing man kind's ultimate savior: hope. She realized her mind was wandering, probably in an attempt to keep from focusing on the pain that awaited her at the other end of the rift Hedri was preparing, but the concept behind the story felt appropriate now, and for so many reasons…

Kathryn was suddenly startled to feel John's annoyance flare, but it wasn't for the reason she'd expected.

"Pandora," he spat, "a constant thorn in my side. So damned _curious_. All she had to do was keep the lid shut like she was told, but could do it? Of course not!" he scoffed. "She _had_ to know what was in that damned box…"

Through her skepticism, Kathryn felt him cocking his head and regarding her intently as he spoke. "Actually, now that I think on it, the two of you are so much alike, it's frightening."

The last remark earned him a sharp glace at the unflattering comparison, but Janeway didn't address the insult. "And you really expect me to believe that story is true? That the girl existed?"

"I'd introduce you, if we had the time…and if I didn't think it would be the death of me." The last he mumbled under his disembodied breath before speaking up again, "But that's for later."

"Will my father be here when I…if I come back?" she caught herself at the last minute.

"_When_ you return, anyone that ever loved you can access you here. Provided you want them to, of course." He didn't give her time to dwell on the oddity of this last qualification, continuing, "And now, Hedri really must make her preparations if we're to have any hope of your commander getting you clear of the area in time."

More than one Unani would be needed to orchestrate a feat of such magnitude as bringing Kathryn back from the dead, so Hedri had been busy establishing a strong connection with others of her kind.

_Are you ready, Kathryn?_ Hedri finally broke in as she finalized her preparations and turned her attention back to her two companions.

Kathryn blinked. Was she ready? No. Of course she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to be brought back to life. Who could be ready for that? And she still had a million questions left unanswered.

She certainly wasn't ready to go back and face the hell she'd endured over the course of the longest twelve hours of her life…the pain and humiliation that awaited her back at Osalik made her soul shudder. The crew, especially Harry and Neelix, would be owed an explanation of some kind. She would have to face them all, and after what some of them had seen of her captivity, she didn't relish the monumental task that facing her own crew now represented. Benzas, a man she respected and cared for deeply would die in her place, and Chakotay…

Chakotay would be the hardest of all to face.

There was no such thing as being ready for _any_ of it.

"Yes," she spoke up, if not as strongly as she usually did on the bridge, then at least somewhat convincingly. Her chin tilted upward of its own accord. "Yes, I'm ready."

_Then we go. _

"Good. You understand that Hedri cannot fully heal you? That you are going to be in very poor condition until you can manage to find treatment on your own?"

Again, she nodded. "Yes."

"And I'm assuming that it goes without saying that once you are back at Osalik, there is nothing more that we can do for you. Should you or your commander fail to get to safety in time for the rift or fail to procure you adequate medical attention…"

_We die_, Kathryn finished for him silently. _For good this time._ Aloud, she said, "Yes. I understand." At least the tremble in her voice was inaudible, she thought.

"Good, then. Until next time, Kathryn," John offered as the space around her began to pulse with an iridescent blue light. "And next time, you'll come to stay. We'll have eternity to explore all those nagging questions you need the answers to…and I know you don't believe this, but you and I will be great friends."

He was right; she didn't believe him. Her skin tingled. It was an odd sensation.

_We're almost there, Kathryn. A moment more, and you should be one with me. Then I'll deposit you at Osalik. Hopefully. _

"If not?"Janeway questioned_._

"If this attempt fails, you may end up…scattered. In that event, you will be unable to even return here," John supplied. "But I knew that wouldn't deter you from going once you'd made your decision."

He was right again, and Kathryn understood what he'd just told her. At least…she assumed she did. She gave a curt nod, noticing how strangely hot her neck felt, and tried not to think about oblivion and what it would feel like…or rather, what it wouldn't feel like, she amended.

The blue light was all-encompassing now. It filled her, inside and out. Hedri's thoughts began to become more and more clear to her, and she could hear the other Unani coordinating their efforts with her.

"Your father did ask that I convey a final message to you."

Her ears perked up, and she strained to make out John's silvery shape through the growing blue aura obscuring everything before her eyes. "What? What did he say?" But she no longer seemed to have a voice. Her words, like John's, did not originate from her mouth.

"Well, he said 'be kinder to yourself'. He wants you to follow your heart and to not be so stubborn about things that don't really matter in the long run. He wishes you wouldn't keep trying to go it alone when you're surrounded by a group of people who love and adore you."

There was a pause, and she thought he had finished, especially as he had grown more difficult to make out.

"I'm going to put it a much simpler way. I'll say what he didn't feel it was his place to spell out. Since we know Edward believes in letting you make your own choices, you'll be pleased to know I don't suffer from the same affliction."

_So pleased_, she thought sarcastically, very much aware that John could read her thoughts as well as her words as the heat of Hedri's energy enveloped her.

"For such an intelligent woman, you've been a colossal idiot. The man loves you, and we both know you love him. By continuing to deny it, you're both suffering unnecessarily, and far from helping you, it's weakening you. Both."

"Is that all?" she wondered archly, thinking that she'd never gotten such personal, direct evaluation from anyone before…she bristled inwardly at the harsh honesty of his assertion.

"No. Don't be a coward, Captain. It doesn't suit you."

Everything was blue and heat now. She felt a tugging at her body, a strange, potent sensation she'd never experienced before.

"Good luck," she could just make out, before the blue exploded in a fiery haze behind her eyes, and the pain she'd thought she'd left behind slammed through her, full force. It overwhelmed her, tearing through her synapses and threatening to overload them. The memory of each injury, each cruel taunt and muttered promise flooded her. The helplessness and panic blossomed within her like it hadn't ever left. She could smell the blood, the foul scent rotting animal hide she'd come to associate with the Jehnz-yi, and, in particular, with Garan Xi.

She tried to open her eyes and thought she was successful, but she still couldn't see anything. There was only the horrendous pain and the stench of death permeating her senses…until she felt strong hands pinning her shoulders down on the filthy, cold floor.

Unable to help herself, Janeway screamed.

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one, they're not mine...

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: Dearest Cheshire...thanks, yet again, for helping me out with this chapter, Chesh! :D And thanks again, all of you wonderful reviewers...now don't kill me for this, please :D.

Chapter 24

* * *

She stirred. His heart stopped; he swore it, she'd stirred…!

Nothing else seemed to be happening. He watched on, breathless, but _nothing happened_…

Her eyelids fluttered. They fluttered, and opened a tiny crack – as much as they could, given the swollen, puffy tissue surrounding them…

Chakotay dropped to his knees beside her, heedless of the strange, healing heat from the blue glow that hadn't been evident just a couple of minutes before. Benzas had yet to release her, but Chakotay was determined that _his_ face would be the first thing Kathryn would see as she opened those marvelous blue eyes…the eyes he'd been convinced he would never be able to look into again. That his ceaseless tears were dotting the skin of her shoulder as he leaned over her didn't even register. He heard a huge, gaping intake of breath…

She screamed – loudly.

Pain, fear: he didn't know which until she tried to move. Try was the operative word. She barely managed to twist her upper body under Benzas's light grip on her shoulders, and the inability to break the hold on her only seemed to spur her efforts onward, though with the same pathetic results.

"_No_."

Her eyes opened just a tiny bit wider, and the commander saw the panic written there as surely as he was able to hear it in her voice. It tore more pieces from his partially mended heart. It had been one thing to hear over a commlink and from a distance; that had been hell. But to hear that sound now, in person, when she was only a hand's reach away from him… To be able to study the fine lines deepening in her brow as her porcelain skin contorted in sheer torment was even worse.

Was there ever going to be an end to this nightmare? He wondered vaguely in the back of his mind.

"Kathryn!" he cried, barely able to believe what was happening and that she was back with them again, but there was hardly room to stop and acknowledge the miracle of her return. She was panicking, and it frightened him. She never did that.

She didn't hear him. She only struggled harder, again tearing at the barely scabbing skin of her wounds. "You son of a bitch," she was whispering harshly, her voice hoarse and further weakened by her scream of a moment before. Forming the words was clearly difficult around her swollen jaw, though that, too, looked less black and puffy now…

Her world was darkness. No light filtered through the pitch black, and it was a darkness so complete that it was terrifying. She'd awoken to pain nearly beyond her wildest imaginings, but it was a familiar pain, that much came to her through the haze of nightmarish memory. She had a vague recollection of having been safe, having been warm and secure, but now, she was freezing. So cold, and it hurt…_everywhere_. Hands held her down in an uncomfortable position, and the stench of blood and filth was heavy in the thick, humid air around her – the stench of death.

The hands she was conscious of through the pain – barely, but she felt them. She could recall those hands now, the hands that belonged to the one she hated, the one through whom she'd been reduced to this devastated and essentially helpless state. She struggled through fear, through nausea and panic as her stinging skin reminded her, with angry throbs, what those hands intended to take from her now. She couldn't let it happen. _Wouldn't_ let it…not as long as there was still breath in her body…

"Kathryn, calm down…"

The words were foggy, muffled through the silent scream she could hear ringing in her ears. Her own screams, which at some point had become lodged in her throat and now echoed only in her own mind.

But she couldn't see anything, damn it, why couldn't she see? How could she fight him off if she couldn't even SEE him?? "Get off me, you bastard," she managed again. Gods, the pain was horrendous…white hot flashes of agony illuminated the darkness, overwhelming her while she writhed under the hands she couldn't dislodge.

"She thinks you're _him_," Chakotay snapped to the Oncaveat senator holding the captain's shoulders in place.

Benzas's tears joined Chakotay's. He stared down at the woman under his hands, lifting them abruptly and breaking his connection with her entirely.

Chakotay's head jerked up, tearing away from the pain and the strange relief on Kathryn's face only with great effort.

It was too soon. Her injuries were far from healed; they'd only decreased in severity. Her leg was still broken, albeit maybe at a less awkward angle, and the most serious gash connecting her thigh to her hip still gaped wide open. Chakotay's brow crinkled in anger as he belatedly realized that Benzas had disrupted the healing flow of energy from entering the captain's broken body.

"_What are you doing_?" he hissed angrily. As he spoke, he automatically pulled the robe back around her. He'd replicated the loose, concealing garment for her aboard the flyer and had wrapped it around her before he'd picked her up off the floor. Shasta and Benzas had had to open it to find a place to take hold of her that wasn't likely to exacerbate her injuries, and Chakotay unconsciously yanked it closed again as he glared daggers at the Oncaveat senator still kneeling by her head. "It's too soon to stop," he continued heatedly, "she isn't..."

He placed his hands on her upper arms, some of the least damaged skin on her, and was rocked by a powerful sensation. His eyes lost focus and then it felt as though he was in a vision quest, seeing with the eyes of his mind instead of in the physical sense of the word.

_It's all that can be done_, Shasta informed him, and though Chakotay wanted to argue, the steel underlying her words, even in thought, emphasized that she was telling the truth.

He felt Benzas, too. And another, much stronger presence. Many of them, but he couldn't hear them clearly…

He felt Kathryn.

_Chakotay_ was heard from the nearby distance, barely a whisper amongst the other threads of murmuring voices, all struggling to be heard. It was her. She was sensing him, too…

Her relief washed over him, through him like a cool mist. Cold. She was cold. He pressed closer to her, trying to give off some of his own body heat without exacerbating her wounds and was amazed to hear her slight relief echoing through his own body.

This was incredible. He'd always been aware of Kathryn Janeway, at least in some sense of the word. He always knew when she was near, usually knew her thoughts and moods…

This was different. This was direct, like..telepathy. It was insane. He didn't understand this…

Moving between this new reality, the horizon that had opened up within his mind and the real, physical reality wasn't difficult. Confusing, but not difficult… His dark, physical eyes had already fastened to Kathryn's again. She was quiet now, looking intently toward his face, though not directly into his eyes. Her face still reflected obvious agony, and she couldn't seem to help twisting and even slightly writhing in pain…as though she couldn't find a comfortable position, no matter what she tried…

But there was no more panic. She was in pain, but she was no longer so frightened. He felt her intense relief, even through the darkness she seemed to be projecting onto him somehow… He could hear her. Feel her thoughts…

_You came. Shouldn't have…_

A hysterical huff of laughter escaped him as he found her icy hand and clasped it firmly in his, but she was quickly lost amid another wave of excruciating pain.

He had the forgotten tricorder in his hands again, running it over her to assess the remaining damage. His stomach lurched as the readings scrolled by for him. One injury after another blinking red for high priority wounds. The long, crisscrossing slashes across her back and chest were barely closed, the right femur splintered into the surrounding muscle tissue, warping it out of proportion in some places. Peeking through the skin. The one gash at her other thigh stretched wide, reaching well above her hip and still oozed dangerously. And those were only the visible, surface wounds. Infection had already set in. She was far from having all the blood back that she'd lost, and the oxygen deprivation to her organs from the shock was doing appalling things to her insides. Cardiac arrest loomed imminent. And _none_ of it was anything he could treat.

"It hurts," she gritted quietly through clenched teeth, and just that unprompted admission sent shivers of fear racing through him while she continued to writhe on the cold floor, shifting the robe so that he had to reach out and adjust it for her…

He heard it in his mind. Heard the pain, felt it, tearing through his body. Open wounds…throbbing, searing agony…

The pain was worst in her legs. Both of them.

He'd almost reached for a painkiller, ready to snatch it from the pack, until he remembered the doctor's stern admonition of "absolutely _no_ drugs if there's any indication of kidney or liver damage". The tricorder reported both.

He couldn't even do that much for her…

He wasn't really aware of swearing softly, or of reaching for the small tool he hoped might at least alleviate some of the stinging agony from the open gash that was still slowly oozing blood.

And then, as he shifted the robe aside and really _saw_ the horrific thing… He swore again, not even realizing how natural that one, previously not so prevalent action had become to him over the last twelve hours…

Had it only been that long? His eyes were burning as they alternately searched her pained face and the unforgiving readout still flashing on the scanner's small screen beside him on the floor. Applying the tiny, insignificant regenerator would do little for the torn tissues beneath, but he worked the healing laser along her skin anyway. He had to do _something_ for her, or he'd go insane.

His other hand squeezed fierce warmth into her aching fingers, fingers just now regaining circulation now that those cruelly cinched restraints had been cut.

She was afraid. He felt it, though she wasn't able to formulate coherent thought just then. The image of Xi, of his hideous minions circling and leering close to his face flashed in his mind's eye, and then he felt the humiliation inflicted by the degrading tactics they'd employed…

He hadn't imagined. Never in his life had he imagined the sensation of wanting to crawl so far inside of himself that he could no longer feel his own skin…

_Commander_, he heard from around Kathryn's consciousness, and his eyes tore over to Benzas. The senator's teeth were clenched and his hands fisted at his sides. He looked pained. _You have to go now. You have to get out of here. Take them both, and go. Now._

Chakotay glared back in confusion, disliking the intrusion into the newfound connection with her. "We're not leaving you…" His intended tirade was cut off when Benzas grabbed his shoulder, taking advantage of the fact that both his hands were full as he knelt beside Kathryn on the floor.

_No._ The blue-furred alien groaned softly as the field around him pulsated and began to expand. Chakotay's eyes widened as he realized the alien's thoughts were also ringing within his mind. _I'm not coming. I never intended to. I came to make sure you could locate her in time. I came to be sure she would leave with you._

_Benzas._ Kathryn's voice drew both men's attention down to the floor. _I'm sorry. I couldn't…_

_Shh. **I'm** sorry. You were never meant to suffer like this. _

_Plans…changed. When Harry and Neelix were caught, I saw that I had a chance to root out the spy, and I took it. _

Chakotay worked over her, furiously trying to follow the conversation even through the lapses Kathryn suffered as the pain occasionally overwhelmed her, but he was only half successful. It felt uncomfortably like eavesdropping, but it was information he had a right to know...

_It was only necessary for you to facilitate to keep the spy from learning of our plans here. It's too late for him to stop us now, and your people need you back on your ship. _

Yes. They did. Through the pain and darkness, fear and remorse, Janeway struggled to keep to reason. They had to go. She wouldn't last long like this. Chakotay was here; he would help her, get her back to safety. She knew that. But there were things she needed to communicate, now, before she lost the ability to do so at all. _Benzas. The spy…it isn't… Not a he. She. And she hasn't been doing it on purpose. It was never intentional, she didn't…_then the flash of pain ripped through her – through them all – but through her primarily, and her thoughts were clouded into the background under the assault to her senses.

"You were planning this all along. You were going to take her place all along," Chakotay realized aloud, having barely managed to follow the conversation. He'd shaken the grip from his shoulder loose, and he felt anger swelling in his chest again as he regarded the man before him…the man whose nose he had shattered before he could pull himself back…unjustly, or so it now appeared. "Why didn't you tell me this to begin with?"

_Would you have believed me?_

No. He wouldn't have. There was hardly a chance he'd even have listened after the first bit about Kathryn having deliberately headed for the base, intending to stay there. His gaze told the senator as much.

_She chose you, you know. I never stood a chance._ Amber eyes bore into dark obsidian. Held them with a challenge. _I asked Kathryn to be my bondmate. She wouldn't on the chance that the two of you could make it home soon enough to explore what lies between you._

_Damn it, I'm still here, you know._ Janeway had fought back the pain enough to rejoin the exchange, and her automatic annoyance at being discussed as though she wasn't in the room was only compounded by the physical pain. _So you can both stop talking about me as if I'm not..._

_He already knows, Little One. He's in the rift with us; he hears your thoughts, now. And mine, as well. _

To Chakotay, the words were a final thrill as he worked to stem the worst of her blood flow. He could feel it now. He was beginning to formulate a picture of all that had happened without his knowledge over the past few weeks and also a greater sense of the three other people in the room. He felt the other senator quietly observing his progress, with her eyes and with her agile mind, and then felt her nimble fingers taking over the task, freeing him to finish what needed to be finished between the three of them.

His fears about the close friendship his captain had formed with Benzas had proven founded, and yet…here his rival stood, giving him the greatest gift of all. Full concession. An acknowledgement of the feelings Kathryn wasn't able to voice to him herself.

_You'd better be everything she deserves and more, Chakotay_, Benzas all but muttered. The bitterness was kept at a minimal level. _If you aren't, I promise you I'll find a way to come back and make your life a misery of hell._

Chakotay nodded curtly with a grudging respect for the Oncaveat's final warning. It was exactly what he would do in the senator's place.

He hoped so, anyway.

Kathryn, meanwhile, had been floating in and out of a haze of fiery pain. In some places it receded, but there was still far too much damage left to be healed for the pain to have been reduced by very much. She thought the swelling in her head and some of her pounding headache might be gone, but, still, she couldn't see anything. She felt hands, working…but with the reassuring presence of Benzas, and especially of Chakotay in her mind, at her side, the fear and uncertainty at least was kept under a tighter control now...

_Benzas_, she tried, but trailed off. There was so much left to say, so many things she needed him to…

_I know. It's all right, I know. Get my people to safety. _She only felt his sadness and his hard resolve.

_But I still haven't…._she tried, but, again, the captain broke off with a cry as a spasm of pain ripped through her insides, but this time it was different. It was as if a small part of herself had been torn from her. It took a minute, but she soon realized what had happened. He'd broken the link. God only knew how, but he'd broken the link and had withdrawn into it. She couldn't sense him any more.

"Times up, Kathryn," he whispered aloud, finally tearing his eyes away from her face to glare at Chakotay. "Take them and go. _Now_."

Chakotay needed no further urging. The link with Kathryn was severed, but it didn't matter. Much of what he'd needed to know had already been communicated in these last short moments he'd been trying to tend to her worst injuries. What he'd learned regarding the past few weeks was shoved aside and now he focused solely on the immediate concern...her.

She was in bad shape physically, but mentally she was worse off than he'd ever, ever seen her before. She barely had the strength to fight unconsciousness left, even with him by her side, giving her all he had. He was still almost certain it was dangerous to move her, but nothing else could be done for her here.

He slapped the combadge in his pocket. "Chakotay to the Delta Flyer."

Silence. Not even a crackle of contact greeted his ears, and he whirled to his female companion. "Damn. Those charges we set should have blown out the dampening field, but it looks like there was a back-up system in place." His mind raced through the available options, his entire body tense with the urgency to get Kathryn to safety and treat her wounds. "She needs _real_ medical attention, now." His eyes, which had been darting over the entire, filthy interrogation room, ignored the carnage of the fallen soldiers and focused on each of the two exits in turn. "We'll have to get her clear of the dampening field as quickly as possible." He threw himself at his pack, gathering the medical supplies he couldn't fully utilize to toss them back inside. There just wasn't time. He'd done his best to heal the one still bleeding wound at her hip, had reduced some of her cranial swelling, but other than that, it would all have to wait.

"Take Kathryn, Mr. Chakotay," Shasta directed. She leaned over to him, taking over the task of gathering the supplies and throwing them back in the pack. "I have this, and I can cover you from behind, but we can't come into any more contact with the energy surrounding him," she nodded her head towards Benzas, whose face was obscured by the thickening field. "It was delayed while we healed her, and he's doing his best to delay it still, but he can only fight it so long. There are maybe a few minutes before the rift will be at full capacity."

"We may have less time than that," Chakotay suddenly realized as he bent down to gather Janeway into his arms. "If that rift doesn't do the trick, then my Ensign will. He has orders to blow the base...three minutes ago..." He shook his head as he forced himself to put away the dermal regenerator that had, at least, stopped the residual bleeding of the most severe wound along Kathryn's hip. "Either he ran into trouble in orbit, or he's giving us the benefit of the doubt, but I don't want to push our luck. I don't think we'll make it back out the way we came carrying her. There'll be too many of them… We'll have to leave through the front and take our chances on the streets outside."

Shasta nodded her agreement, her eyes pointedly avoiding touching upon the fallen bodies near them. She darted one last, fortifying thought to her dear friend Benzas, her eyes and her soul brimming with unshed tears as the increasing heat of the energy field warmed her flesh. But he had shut himself off to her, having said his goodbyes, and would now have to meet his destiny alone.

They would have to run like hell, Chakotay realized as the heat finally drew his attention, too. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Janeway as he began to lift her, "but there's no way I can do this without causing you more pain, and with the damage to your organs, I can't give you anything…"

Janeway gave a tiny nod, the best she was capable of producing. "Do it," she managed, gritting her teeth and hissing in a pained breath, once more focusing her gaze in his general direction.

It hadn't been until that moment that Chakotay realized she wasn't looking right at his face. Her eyes were unfocused, and unfocused in a frighteningly identifiable manner, searching the space near him as though unsure where, exactly, he was. The strange darkness he'd sensed her thoughts struggling through to get to him suddenly made a sickening sense.

His heart sank even as his mind whirled, strategizing and planning their exit as he started for the door, carrying her as gently as securely possible. "You can't see me. You can't see anything, can you?" he murmured so that only she could hear him.

A pained groan from the back of her throat was his only answer, but the dark look that swept over her face was answer enough. There was no damage to her eyesight – not according to the tricorder, anyway. Again, the fear for her mental state threatened to consume him.

For all of their sakes, he battled it away, tucking it into the corner of his mind, and then they were moving. Finally.

They headed for the main doors, breaking out into a near run as soon as Shasta managed to sling the pack over her slight shoulders, tricorder in hand and preparing to scan the area in front of them as they went. Chakotay had to jostle Kathryn into a more comfortable position as he stepped over the motionless body of the general, and her resulting cry of pain as he moved her tore through him like a spiked club ripping through tender muscle.

For her part, Janeway concentrated only on maintaining her sanity through the pain, but new waves of it drowned her in renewed agony with each shifting motion. In those moments, through the fear, movement, and commotion, she held fast to the knowledge that Chakotay had her, and that she trusted him with both of their lives. His face in her mind, the euphoric relief he'd felt for those glorious moments when they'd been aware of each others' thoughts, was the only thing that brought her strength. But she could still sense his tension communicated through the rippling muscles of the strong body he cradled her against, and was very conscious of the fact that they weren't clear of danger yet. She tried to hold on and fight oblivion…

Just as they reached the heavy set of double doors, there was motion behind them, and Shasta whirled to take aim with her weapon. Behind the rapidly expanding field that was now all but obscuring Benzas's figure from view, an entire horde of Jehnz-yin guardsmen had assembled. Her shock at the appearance of the Imperial Guard – the chancellor's personal army, so to speak – was short-lived. The guard may have been notorious rivals of the Jehnz-yin military, but they were still Jehnz-yin. No matter what purpose they had here, it couldn't be good for her or for her human companions.

Her hearts lurching in terror, she placed her thumb to the triggering mechanism, an awkward reach as her hand was smaller than a typical Jehnz-yin soldier's, but was spared the necessity of having to fire.

"A rift!" the well-dressed guardsman was shouting over the din of confused mutterings and cries. He pointed rather stupidly in front of him, as though there was a single occupant of the room whose gaze had been drawn anywhere else. "Gods in space, the Oncaveat bastards are actually doing it _here_."

The fear in his voice was audible, and it was mirrored on the faces of his fellow soldiers. Shasta had time to quirk just one tiny bit of a wry smile before Chakotay's sharp intake of breath had her spinning around to face the opposite direction.

Her hearts stopped entirely, and she understood the reason that the commander wasn't moving, despite the urgency of their situation and the fact that he had already thrown both doors wide open, clearing a huge opening for the three of them to exit the military building.

He _couldn't_ move. Another group of the Imperial guard, led by the Jehnz-yin chancellor's most trusted man himself, stood in front of the building, at the top of the steps, effectively blocking their path. All ten of the guardsmen stood staunchly in place, the two closest nearly touching the commander's throat with the business ends of their weapons. And, as he held Kathryn against him, he was unarmed. There was no way he could draw his own weapon before being shot, and, worse, it was the captain who would likely take the initial weapons' fire as she was held in front of him.

He couldn't take the chance. He knew it immediately.

The guardsman smiled at the stricken look on the face of the Oncaveat woman behind the dark human male when one of his men swiftly disarmed her, easy enough in her shocked state. She was pulled forward into the waiting assemblage of his men, and her solitary pair of arms wrenched behind her back and secured there before either she or the human male could do much more than issue a cry of protest.

His heart sinking into his boots like a leaden stone, Chakotay shifted slightly to twist Kathryn out of the line of direct fire and barely heard the words growled by the exceedingly smug lead guardsman.

"You needn't worry, human. If that red-haired woman you carry is Kathryn Janeway, then you are in no danger so long as you cooperate."

His eyes darted downward in shock at the mention of her hair color, and another soft curse escaped him. He'd purposefully covered her hair, but in the process of trying to bustle her out the door, the cloth had fallen away from her face. She was clearly visible from where the guardsman stood, and there was no denying that it was her.

The guardsman smiled coldly at Chakotay, whose face was a mask of hatred set in stone as he shifted again. Gesturing impatiently with his weapon, he condescended to explain himself further, "I am to escort your entire party to Ghanza Prime. The chancellor wishes to speak with your captain. He has a proposal he believes will be mutually beneficial to our peoples."

* * *


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one, they're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: Dearest Cheshire...thanks, yet again, for helping me out with this chapter. You're the **best**. And thanks again, all of you wonderful reviewers.

Chapter Twenty-Five

_She lived in a dream world, mostly. She was aware of only so much of reality at any given time. Pain, there was plenty of, but each time she'd broken free of the continual landscape of dream images and nightmares and pulled her way to the surface, there was less of that. Pain. _

_Heat. She was too warm; she knew that, yet at times she awoke alternately freezing. Those were times that warm liquid was soothed past her lips, into her mouth, her throat lightly stroked, and a low voice she trusted but didn't quite place encouraged her to swallow. So she did, faintly aware that her head was being supported by a warm hand so she could do so without choking._

_Sometimes she heard other voices. Cold voices, not at all like the one she trusted. Often, the voice that softly urged her to swallow or to lie still would rise, and then it would take on a hard, dangerous edge. It snapped things, orders, and not so subtle threats. The cold voices stopped then, but she never feared the first voice which wasn't raised at her. Never at her. When the owner of the familiar voice touched her, his voice was never hard. Only soothing. Often, it spoke of happier times or mentioned names that she thought she should know and didn't, but which hearing pronounced in the singular, soft inflections always made her calmer, somehow. _

_And each time she awoke – or thought she did, it was really hard to tell because the dreams were all too real – but each time, there was less pain and less discomfort. Slowly, awakening meant more than just darkness and sensation, uncertainty and panic. Gradually, reality began to feel safer than the unconscious world, in which she was still haunted by tortured faces and a relentless, gruesome figure stalking, hunting her throughout it all. _

**Two weeks later…**

* * *

He sat in the chair at her bedside, deliberately positioned between her and the door. The doctors would be here any moment; they always came just as the first rays of the brilliant red sun became visible over the edge of the mountainous horizon.

The view was incredible; even he had to grudgingly admit it. When his dark eyes weren't glued to her face for hours at a time, waiting for some sign of a turn in her condition (whether for better or worse), he allowed himself to take in some of the spectacular vista the huge, floor to ceiling windows of the far wall afforded.

The young attendant assigned to look after their basic needs slipped silently into the chamber, bringing with her the usual tray of delicacies and herbal, alien teas of which the morning meal was comprised here. Chakotay was aware of her almost before her small hand had turned the handle, admitting her into the opulently furnished room, and he tore his gaze from the vast landscape that spread out from the mountainside out of which the imperial estate they inhabited had been built.

"They said her fever had finally broken, and I see it's true. She looks better this morning, Commander."

"Thank you, Bimmah," he acknowledged tersely, rubbing his palms over his red-rimmed, bleary eyes as she set the tray down on the low table on the other side of his chair. His tone wasn't unkind, but neither was it as generous as it might have been two months ago, before…everything. He also knew, however, that she was used to less respectful attitudes by far.

To Bimmah, the human was strangely polite, even to the point of absurdity, but she was getting used to him. At first, while his woman's condition had been perilously uncertain, he'd ignored Bimmah entirely, suspicious of her intentions and her continual appearance in the room even after he'd thrown the doctors out in sheer, frustrated rage.

He was the only one who could do that here besides the chancellor, which meant that the human, for some reason, was being given a wide measure of latitude and even respect. The doctors worked on the ailing human woman only when the commander permitted it, and though Bimmah had been dispatched on the chancellor's orders to play nursemaid to the woman while she recovered, she wasn't permitted to lay so much as a hand on the alien captain. The commander had stood firm on this the first day; only the doctors were permitted to touch Janeway, and they only at first to perform necessary surgery, and only when the commander was present to witness every single move they made. Beyond that, he was the one to see to her daily needs and care. He was the one to feed her, bathe her, change her bedding. He was the one to dress her and change her bandages and bedding. Now, the doctors were permitted to check his dressings, to be sure he was applying them correctly, but, beyond that, no one else touched her – ever.

He ate little and slept less, but when he did, he slept sitting up in the chair by her side. He'd outright refused to be moved to the adjoining chambers provided for him, even when shown the small door connecting the two rooms and informed he'd be permitted to cross between them at will…

"I don't leave her side," had been his curt dismissal of the concept. He'd refused to hear any further argument on the topic, either.

The subject had not been broached again.

They could have had him forcefully removed, and at first, Bimmah knew they'd considered it and was puzzled over the decision not to. But the doctors had observed the way she calmed to no one else's influence but his and had apparently recommended that he be allowed to remain with her as he demanded.

The story of how he'd threatened to stand on the steps at Osalik and allow himself to be swallowed in the strange rift along with Janeway before letting a single Jehnz-yin hand touch her again had spread like wildfire. No one seemed inclined to tempt this human commander into the irrational behavior they all believed him capable of – not when the woman's condition was important enough to the chancellor that he had yet to address the loss of half the Jehnz-yin military's most vital bases or the commander's televised murder of the famous General Xi. Chancellor Gerros cared only for updates on Janeway's progress, and the fact that the Voyagers' ship had fallen off the radar entirely didn't seem to interest him, either. All that mattered was Janeway and her recovery.

And so, at least for the time being, the one called Chakotay's will reigned supreme.

"Thank you, Bimmah. I'll handle it from here."

She knew that she'd been dismissed. As quietly as she'd entered, the servant slipped out of the room. Only when the door had sealed shut again did Chakotay turn back to the bed. "Kathryn. Are you awake?"

He'd detected the slightest change in her even breathing and thought he'd heard a low moan but couldn't be sure. The doctors had told him last night, after the fever finally broke, that he should prepare himself for her awakening, and he had been, but it almost seemed too much to hope after the seemingly endless vigil he'd been keeping at her bedside for the better part of two weeks now…

Janeway had just been beginning to come back to herself when she heard her name called. She knew that voice; it was a comfortable, safe voice.

"Kathryn."

She struggled towards the sound of her own name being called.

"Can you open your eyes for me?"

She felt his warm hand find hers over the covers and his fingers weave through hers, further encouraging her to crack open her eyelids. The instant she did it, however, she snapped them shut again, bringing her free hand up to further shield her sensitive eyes from the sunlight creeping into the room through the viewport.

"Sorry. Hold on." She felt his hand loosen and leave hers and then the air shifting with his movement. There was a faint rustling, a muffled curse and then a tearing sound, followed by additional ruffling. Kathryn felt him move back to her side and retake her hand before daring once again to try and open her eyes. This time, she met with more success.

He sounded elated, for some reason. "I take it you can see?"

Janeway was confused by the question, and the confusion was deeply unsettling. She swept her rusty gaze over the far side of the room, looking for clues to her whereabouts. Of the blurred shapes and colors surrounding her, nothing was familiar. She was confused by what she saw and by what she felt; she was confused by all of it.

"Where am I?" she finally ventured, her voice rough and raw through her dry throat.

"Ghanza Prime." But the name didn't appear to mean anything to her – if she'd heard him answer at all. Chakotay watched every single emotion flickering, and most of what he observed did not belong there. From uncertainty to fear and confusion to doubt, they were all expressions he'd rarely (if ever) seen displayed so unguardedly across her features. It concerned him. He kept absently soothing his thumb over her the bone of her left wrist, but couldn't resist leaning forward, more into her direct line of vision. When she still didn't look at him, concern morphed into fear. "Kathryn."

She finally turned her head at the sound of his voice. "What?"

"Who am I?"

He watched her eyes focus on the frame of his face, glued to the cascade of emotions washing blue to stormy grey and back again within a matter of seconds. For that one moment while the memories flooded through her, Chakotay thought that he could see each event from the past few weeks unfold in his captain's eyes, and he felt the range of the feelings assailing her at each new memory. He heard her breathing quicken and then felt her try to pull away from him. But he held fast to her hand, and further, he brought his remaining hand to rest along the topmost side of her face, keeping her from looking away from him. "Kathryn?" he prompted again. "Can you tell me who I am?"

"You're Chakotay." Janeway swallowed thickly, keeping a fierce control over the tears shimmering in her eyes, save for one, which broke free to trail slowly down her cheek. "You're my first officer and…" then she closed her eyes tightly, pressing her face into his hand as she finished, "a better friend than I deserve most of the time."

Had she been looking into his eyes, she would have seen the burst of ecstatic relief suffuse his tan features, but she missed it. Instead, Janeway felt his hand tighten over hers and the thumb of his other hand swiping away the trickle of moisture under her eye. It took a long minute for her to feel safe enough in her hard-won control, but eventually, she was able to look at him again. When she did, what she saw reflected in his eyes was a mixture of profound joy and deep sadness, both emotions that Kathryn recognized as present within herself, but she was nowhere near ready to address either just yet.

He waited patiently while she searched his face, the room, and her own memory before the inevitable slew of questions had to be addressed.

"What is this place?"

"Ghanza Prime," he repeated, knowing now that she hadn't heard him say this before. "Specifically, the chancellor's personal estate."

"Personal estate?" she echoed disbelievingly. Janeway's jaw slackened as she tried to process this revelation. "_The _Jehnz-yin chancellor? The same chancellor who ignored every single attempt at communication from us? The one who couldn't so much as acknowledge a single one of our hails? "

"I know," Chakotay nodded, understanding her disbelief. Upon first entering the region, Kathryn had spent days trying to rouse a response – any response – from the Jehnz-yin government, aside from the standard audio recording that the Jehnz-yin people "did not deal with lesser races". "Apparently, the chancellor had a change of heart. He sent his personal guardsmen to bring you back from Osalik."

"_Why_?"

"I don't know that, either. I've only seen the doctors and a few servants so far, but we've been here for a little over two weeks…"

"Two weeks?" Janeway shook her head, trying to take in his words. "But I…Voyager?" the concern snapped her eyes wide immediately. "Chakotay, tell me they don't have the ship…"

"I don't know." The uncertainty had been gnawing at him all the while. She could see it in the frustrated flash of his eyes, though he tried to keep his tone calm and assured – for her sake, she knew full well. "I have to believe we'd have heard mention if something had happened, but for now, I believe Tuvok managed to get the ship to safety."

It was almost an outright lie. He didn't believe the physicians would tell him a single thing and in fact had gotten the impression they rather enjoyed denying him information, but it wasn't something he felt entirely bad about misrepresenting. Not when her eyes had just barely opened and not when he knew what the worry for her ship and crew would ultimately do to her state of mind and, in turn, to her physical recovery.

He leaned over her, keeping a hold of her hand as he watched her try to piece together the events of her fragmented memory. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"The rift." She swallowed, her eyes shifting focus from place to place as she tried to reconstruct the fragments in some kind of proper order. "The rift was forming. Benzas took over and he… There was…I'd been somewhere else, for a time. Somewhere different, but then I was back. We were all connected. I…I felt you. You were in the link with us."

Chakotay nodded her onward. "That's right. I heard your thoughts…all three of you."

Kathryn swallowed again, "And then Benzas," the tears formed in her eyes, "told you to get me out. He broke the link…" She paused here and looked to Chakotay to confirm her recollections, and as he nodded grimly, she closed her eyes and was quiet for a long minute.

Chakotay let her have the time, not wanting to push her and understanding that she had developed a deep friendship with Benzas, whatever his personal feelings on that subject happened to be. A friendship now lost, and it was a loss that would have to be grieved. However, if he knew Kathryn at all, he didn't think she'd be ready to allow herself to…

Almost on cue, she took a deep breath and turned her face back up to him. "That's where it all fades to black, mostly. I think you picked me up…we were moving…but the chancellor had sent his men to retrieve me?"

"Yes. I'd gotten there first, but before we managed to get you clear of the base, they had the building surrounded." A slightly bitter edge crept into his voice in spite of his efforts to guard against it, "They met us at the door."

Janeway searched her hazy memory for a recollection of these events, shaking her head as she came up empty. "I don't remember any of this. What were they after?"

"They wanted me to hand you over. Demanded it."

The dark, angry flash in his eyes wasn't directed at her, but it did spark another memory.

"Wait…yes. I was…too out of it…to follow most of it, but I do remember you refusing to do something. At one point, you raised your voice, and I could hear you clearly." She trailed off as the cloudy memory formed into one vivid recollection, eyes widening as she focused solely on him, recalling his words. "You said…no one touches her…"

"Or I turn back and the rift takes us both," he finished. His eyes, deadly serious, held fast to hers, and then his voice grew strangely soft. "I meant it. If they'd tried to take you from me by force, I would have done it."

There was no hesitation from her. "I would have wanted you to."

He had time to nod, but the slightest trembling of her hand warned him of her next question even before she posed it. "Xi?"

"Not here," Chakotay quickly assured, knowing exactly what it was that had her trembling despite her even voice. "He's dead, Kathryn."

The tension was visibly released from her body, and on the heels of her shaky exhalation, she nodded him curtly onward.

Seeing that she had no intention of getting into that now or the reason for her unapologetic relief, he continued and hoped to hell she couldn't feel the way his body shook with his own quiet outrage, "But they wouldn't let me take you back to the Flyer so the doctor could treat you or even hail Harry and tell him there'd been a change of plans. Even after I told them he had orders to destroy the base if he didn't hear from me."

This snagged her attention, of course, and Chakotay knew what her next concern would be, too...

"You brought Harry with you? Did he…?"

"As far as I know, they made it away from the moon in time. Benzas had shown him what to look for on scanners before we made orbit. He should have known when to pull out and head back to Voyager."

Eyes shining, Janeway recalled Harry's astonished, accusatory face upon sighting her for the first time in the Jehnz-yin prison cell. Vague, even more hazy memories of being somewhere else and of feeling Harry's bitter frustration, Neelix's suffering and then Chakotay's all-consuming terror for her surfaced. Janeway took yet another moment to steady herself, grateful that Chakotay allowed her the time she needed, but grateful more so that he knew instinctively when the silence was in danger of becoming too much for her wandering mind to handle.

"As far as I know, they made it back to the ship safely," he repeated softly. "The doctors here don't seem to have any knowledge of outside events, but I have to believe someone would have notified me if they hadn't."

Realizing it was the best answer he had to offer, or would offer, at least for the moment, she nodded numbly. "Neelix? The last I'd heard was from Benzas. He told me they'd made it to Voyager and that the doctor was treating him..." She broke off, coughing slightly, and Chakotay was quick to offer her a sip of tea, but when she tried to take it from him he waved her off.

"Not yet. It'll take time for you to regain your muscle strength, and it's too hot to risk spilling." He hated that she only offered him "the look" at about half power before relenting and letting him hold the cup for her. To him, it was an accurate indicator of how much farther she had to go before he'd even consider her to be on the mend, but he kept all such thoughts to himself. "And Neelix was stabilized when we left."

And perhaps "stabilized" was far too liberal a use of the word, but Kathryn's voice hadn't even lost its rusty edge from disuse yet. There was no way she needed to know every gory detail of Neelix's recovery…or lack thereof. Not when they didn't even know if she'd be able to walk properly…or even sit up straight in bed. She had yet to try it, and Chakotay knew that, too, should worry him. At the very least, it said a lot for how she felt physically, though she herself would never give him an honest answer if he asked her outright.

She swallowed the strange liquid with a grimace not entirely due to the taste of the drink, for the moment unaware of her first officer's thoughts. "Thank you." He watched more memories play across her features and, given the Talaxian's near death condition by the time the Flyer had returned, he didn't think he had to wonder too hard about what, exactly, was causing the new tension in her neck and shoulders as he let her lie her head back on the pillows. "What's his prognosis? His hand…?"

He should have known she'd push for a better answer than that. "The doctor was working on a way to make him a replacement for his finger. He was hoping to run more tests when he got back." Chakotay felt a twinge of guilt at brushing her off again, but, under the circumstances, she had enough guilt to deal with, and she'd never handled that particular emotion very well.

Neither did he, for that matter. His own actions of a few weeks ago, from failing to pin her down and get her to confide in him from the beginning, to letting her leave the ship without having done so to hitting Benzas…all of it ate at him now.

She watched him while these thoughts crossed his mind, though he hadn't realized it. The remorse she was trying to battle into submission was reflected back to her in his eyes, and it was all it took. Until now, they'd both been doing their best to keep the conversation factual and businesslike, but then it was too late, and the moment was suddenly charged with a thousand unspoken questions, unoffered apologies and explanations.

Finally, the silence was in danger of breaking them both, and she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Chakotay–"

"Don't." It came out harshly, harder than he'd intended, and at the shock in her face, he regretted it immediately and softened, "Please. I can't…not now. Not yet."

It caused another shimmer of tears to resurface, because she didn't know what that meant. She had no idea whether he couldn't deal with the trauma of recent events yet, his reaction to them, or whether it was her actions, specifically, that he wasn't able to address…or a combination of all of it. She only knew that she'd hurt him, unintentionally, but that the hurt was deep and possibly irrevocable.

"I'm sorry," was all that forced its way out before her throat closed up and she moved to turn away.

He still couldn't. Not even when she looked at him like that, as if her heart was breaking into a million pieces…it was all too raw.

But there was one way to reassure her that, however bad things might be, he would never ever leave her side, and he didn't need words to do it.

Leaning over the edge of her bed again, he held up his hand, palm facing her. Not so far down that she couldn't see it, but then, not so high that she couldn't reach it, either. The relief springing into her face battled back some of the agonizing uncertainty, though it did absolutely nothing to stem the flow of tears – for either one of them. But as she lifted her shaking hand to press her palm to his, it was enough for both of them to know that, somehow, they would work through it. Together, the way they were meant to have from the start. Their fingers intertwined, and there was no need for a telepathic connection here for the two of them to understand each other completely.

"Better?" he asked, after a much-needed few moments of unabashed tears on both their parts.

Before she could offer a response, the door swung open to admit a trio of Jehnz-yin. Comprised of two men and one woman, the group swept in and were already up to her bedside, peering down at her before she realized who and what they were.

The two males had scanners out and were already busy scanning furiously as the woman spoke to her.

"Captain. A pleasure to see you finally among the waking this morning."

Chakotay hadn't moved to lean back by an inch. He still held Kathryn's hand in his, and when she darted a questioning, entirely too unconfident glance in his direction, he leaned even closer to her but addressed his irate comment to the Jehnz-yin woman. "Doctor, can we do this later? She's just coming around, and I don't want–"

"Unfortunately, Commander, we can't." Contempt practically dripped from the tall woman's voice, but the familiar way she uttered Chakotay's rank made Janeway believe this was a regular visitor, and she relaxed only slightly as the woman continued, "The captain is conscious for the first time in two weeks, and it's necessary to examine her for other signs of improvement. I'm sure you'll agree it would be best to know what rehabilitative care she will require as quickly as possible?" The woman did not wait for an answer. "Now, if you'll kindly pull back those covers, we can take a look at her bandages." When Chakotay only stared coldly back at her, she gave a wry little smile, gruesome against her typically Jehnz-yin, gargoyle-like features, and added, "We fully understand your requirement is that she not be touched."

"Kathryn?" It was a question in the form of a word, and Janeway fought with herself to appear unconcerned, but it was a fight. The sudden appearance of the doctors had come when she least expected it, startling her and adding to the newly-developed fear of anything Jehnz-yin.

Regardless of whether or not she wanted these three anywhere near her, she did understand that they were physicians and her sore, exhausted body told her, without seeing a single medical report, that their assessment of her condition was probably important. At least these three didn't smell like the soldiers had, probably due, in large part, to the fact that they didn't wear animal hide but rather normal (to human standards) cloth clothing…

She nodded curtly, shaking herself out of her scattered thoughts. "It's all right, Chakotay."

But it wasn't, and he knew it. A muscle worked in Chakotay's jaw. He'd discreetly rubbed the back of his sleeve across his eyes as soon as the doctors had entered but suspected some of the woman's especially pointed condescension stemmed from the interrupted display of emotion from the two humans. If there was one thing the Jehnz-yi disapproved of, he knew by now, it was weakness.

"Fine," he snapped shortly at the three physicians. "Step back."

It was worse, he discovered, when Kathryn was conscious to be aware of the close scrutiny. Before, he'd felt horrible because she hadn't been awake to give her consent to his seeing her like this, touching her like this, even though he knew it was a medical necessity. But he found quite quickly that he had been wrong to think it would be better with her awake. He annoyed the doctors to no end in making sure she was aware and consenting to every single move he made before making it, but Kathryn had taken one look down at herself as he'd begun unwrapping the various bandages and turned her head away in what he assumed was shock. Afterward, she only mumbled vague affirmatives and occasionally flinched when he accidentally grazed raw skin. Other than that, she endured the scrutiny and the doctors' callous discussion of her injuries with a muted air of endurance and a blank, far away look in her grey eyes.

He was right about the shock. For the captain, the next half hour was one of only dim awareness. She couldn't prevent herself from drawing inward and completely detaching from the sight of the lingering scars, some of them still quite horrifying, and the pale, pasty appearance of her own skin. Beyond the mortification of the nudity aspect, it was too vivid a reminder of things she, quite frankly, never wanted to think about again.

When the assessment moved to her lower body, it took everything in her not to snap at him to get away from her. The only thing that held her back was the vague awareness, somewhere in her, that this was already killing him to have to do, and that such a reaction from her was only going to hurt him unbelievably.

And so Janeway bit her lip and brought the image of her ship to the forefront of her consciousness, focusing on Voyager's technical specifications and reciting them to herself. That, however, only proved more distressing when she began to realize that some of the things she should know were proving troublesome to pinpoint. She knew Voyager's commission number and class, and the crew complement came easily. She knew how many decks there were and how many were fully functional. She recalled the number of phaser banks and torpedo launchers, specifications she'd memorized before the ship had ever left dry dock, but whenever she tried to access more recent statistics, like how many photon torpedoes were currently available, how full Voyager's food stores were, and what the optimum ratio of matter/antimatter flow to the warp core was as the ship's engines ran currently, she found herself drawing blanks. Massive blanks that seemed to her like huge, gaping holes in her memory.

That. Never. Happened. As ship's captain, Janeway prided herself on knowing every minute detail about the status of her ship and on being made aware of any change, no matter how small, immediately. She had to know these things to do her job properly…yet she couldn't recall even some of the more broadly quantifiable statistics, no matter how hard she willed the information to come to her.

Eventually, the worry was too much. She was exhausted again, just from the small amount of activity in the past half hour, and she could only hope that this was a temporary problem with her short term memory and that it would resolve itself in time. After all, she thought bitterly, it wasn't as if she had a ship to run at the moment, now did she? Voyager, if she hadn't been captured, was off somewhere hopefully under Tuvok's capable command, and they were successfully avoiding whatever was left of the Jehnz-yin military…

"All right, that's it. We're done for now. You can come back later and finish." Chakotay was drawing the covers over her again, gently tucking the soft blue blanket under her arms, and as she unwittingly met his eyes, he read the acute distress she was under and she couldn't help seeing the pure apology in his. He'd realized that she had had about as much of this as she could take, and he was drawing the line for her, for which Kathryn was more than grateful.

"Commander, we're far from finished here."

The doctors had been speaking, conferring. Casually discussing the lingering contusions and abrasions. Listing the scars that would most likely remain with her for life, at least if left to the limitations of Jehnz-yin medicine. Discussing the filtration of her blood and handing various hypospray-like objects for Chakotay to inject her with, but they'd stopped when Chakotay had spoken.

The woman, apparently the spokesperson of the three, addressed his demand. "We've yet to check for her internal progress, and there are still her reproductive organs to examine–"

"I said it's enough," the commander repeated, his voice low and hard. "You did say she's progressing satisfactorily, didn't you?"

The female physician's lip curled up in barely suppressed disgust. "We did. But you humans aren't particularly strong stock, and as I indicated, there are still–"

"Then you can come back later," came his unyielding and terse response. "Don't misunderstand me, Doctor. We're of course grateful for your assistance. But right now, she's exhausted, and she needs to rest, which she can't very well do with the three of you hovering over her. So it's time for you to leave. Now."

The doctors continued to argue with him, and Janeway, who really was exhausted – too much so to interject – turned her head away from the confrontation at the foot of her bed with the intention of resting her eyes. The captain was stopped in mid-motion when she saw the impressive figure dominating the doorframe, and she gasped out loud with the sharp intake of shock.

Chakotay, in tune to her every breath, spun immediately to see what had drawn such a reaction from Kathryn and he, too, froze upon sighting the object that had so obviously caught her attention. Standing just outside the doorway, flanked by two stern looking aides and grinning back at them, was a resplendently outfitted Jehnz-yin male who looked exactly like the late General Xi.

* * *


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one, they're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

Chapter Twenty-Six

* * *

"Cha–" was all that made it out of the captain's lips, the rest of his name drowning in a silent scream as the figure took a confident few steps in her direction, sweeping into the room without hesitation now that he'd obviously been noticed. White flashed in front of her before the black descended, and for a long, terrifying moment, she saw nothing but darkness.

But she heard the screams – her own screams. It took a while to realize they were only in her mind, but at the sound of other voices, Janeway gradually began to understand that she had not been screaming aloud. Her vision returned, inexplicably, to her once again, and that roaring in her ears began to fade along with the fear.

The fear faded slowest of all.

"Please forgive the unannounced visit," the newcomer was announcing, "but we thought, under the circumstances, a more informal meeting would be appropriate."

He even sounded like him. It was insane. But hell, at this point, Chakotay thought, eyeing their visitor, he'd already watched Kathryn come back to life. He didn't put it past Xi to have done the same…s_omehow_.

"Who are you?" Chakotay demanded. He was already in front of her again, prepared to move heaven and earth with sheer will alone if he had to, but there was no way in any reality that Garan Xi was coming near Janeway. Not again. "Stay where you are." He didn't understand what was happening here any more than Kathryn did, but there would be no hesitation on his part to simply kill the general again if he had to.

If he could. Unarmed and outnumbered, he knew there was more than a chance that he couldn't. Even if it would be his last act among the living, he'd gladly die trying.

"Chancellor," the female doctor purred obligingly before the man could reply, "you'll have to forgive the commander. I don't believe he recognizes you, but even beyond that, I'm afraid," she shrugged, straightening after having bowed low, "he simply doesn't like us."

Chakotay didn't bother arguing. He was too busy watching the newcomer and waiting for him to take another step forward. Apparently, the aides had noticed this, too. They stepped to the chancellor's side, their hard eyes gleaming menacingly in the dim lighting of the well-furnished room. It was a look mirroring Chakotay's.

He ignored them, focusing now on the man those two men sought to protect.

"Chancellor Gerros Xi, Commander, Captain." The Xi look-alike inclined his leathery, grey-skinned head regally. "This is my personal estate. And do forgive me. I'm so used to my own appearance, it isn't often I stop to reflect upon it. I'm told I bear a great resemblance to my father, whom you've met."

"Xi." It came out of her in a breathy whisper, and Chakotay reached back to find her hand as she spoke. "Garan Xi. He was your father."

There was a moment of profound silence, in which Chakotay took in her meaning but did not remove his eyes from the figure in front of them.

"The general," she broke off in bitter little laugh, "was your _father_."

And Chakotay had killed him, she didn't have to add.

"The likeness is incredible," the commander mused aloud, suspiciously and not accidentally. He wasn't yet certain that it wasn't a trick of some kind, and he hadn't ruled out the possibility that the man standing in the doorway was, in fact, the general. Not when the resemblance was so freakishly uncanny…

Not that it mattered. He could feel the captain's distress in the way her nails dug into his fingers, could hear it in the wheezing quality of the deep, steadying breath she tried to take behind him. Whoever this man was, he wouldn't be getting any closer to her.

The chancellor's face twitched oddly, the muscles near his jaw working back and forth. He had simply stared hard at the humans for a long minute, saying nothing. Finally, opting to ignore his guests' remarks entirely, his gaze slid over to the physicians, and he inquired in a falsely cheerful tone, "How is the captain this morning, Doctors? She looks much improved."

She looked much improved? Chakotay's brow furrowed at the oddity of the statement. How would the chancellor know whether or not her appearance was an improvement? This was certainly the first time he'd visited their room; Chakotay would have known otherwise.

"From what we can see, Excellency, yes. The drugs have cleared her system and her injuries have been healing steadily since, but of greatest significance is that we've finally broken her fever," the lead doctor reported smoothly, bowing again as she spoke. "The new treatment plan seems to have worked. Now we have only to rehabilitate the unused muscles in her legs. She'll require an aid to walk, I believe, for a time."

This last bit clearly displeased the chancellor. "For how long?" he demanded, growing ever more like the late(?) General Xi in his annoyance, from Chakotay's point of view.

The woman shrugged. "A few weeks, perhaps. It is possible she will not regain full mobility in the one leg."

The chancellor scowled along with Chakotay, who dared use the moment to glance back to Janeway. She looked even more exhausted, not that he blamed her, but she was managing to hide most of her distress under a neutral expression.

"If I can get her back to her ship, our doctor can treat her injuries," he insisted aloud, for what felt like the millionth time since they'd been here, "and she won't lose any mobility at all."

As usual, he was ignored by the doctors, though the chancellor, Xi – whoever he was – did deign to throw him a terse acknowledgement. "Impossible. At least at the moment." Of his physician, he asked, "Were there unexpected problems in setting the bone? Why wasn't I informed of this?"

"No, Chancellor. Human bones are not terribly complicated structures," the woman smirked. "The break was bad, but with the bone of the other leg intact we had a sufficient model to compare for reconstruction. The bone is, in fact, healed completely. It's the other leg that presents the greatest problem."

"I don't understand, Doctor; you stopped the bleeding there over a week ago." This came from Chakotay, who had just heard more concrete prognosis in the last few minutes regarding Kathryn's condition than he had in the past two weeks combined. Kathryn remained silent, content to gather and conserve her strength for the moment while her first officer handled this part of the conversation. After all, he did know more, she was able to rationalize, about her condition than even she did.

"Yes, we did stop the bleeding, Commander, that's true. However, the human nervous system is slightly more complicated. Our scans show the possibility of nerve damage is quite strong, and that is not something we are confident in being able to fix, I'm afraid."

"Again, Doctors, that's something that our doctor would have no problem treating."

"If we could find him for you, Commander, I'd consider it. Unfortunately, your ship has not been seen. Now. Those are her external injuries," the chancellor acknowledged. "Internal?"

Chakotay's gut clenched painfully. Damn him – whoever the hell he was. _Not_ _in front of her, not yet_, was his first reaction. He had no idea how far Garan Xi had gotten before he'd pulled the general off of her in that interrogation room. And he hadn't wanted to know. He'd been hoping like hell that Kathryn didn't know, didn't remember that part of it at all. He didn't think she knew; she'd been in horrendous shape when he'd arrived, and he wasn't even sure she'd been conscious. Not to mention that she'd…he'd lost her shortly thereafter for a time. She couldn't know, he'd decided…and he didn't _want_ her to know. Not now. Not until she was able to get some sort of sense back of the world around her first. Some sense of security. She'd only just barely opened her eyes…

"Chakotay." He turned slightly and glanced down at her, realizing belatedly that he'd been the one applying steady pressure to her hand this time, and he abruptly let up.

"Sorry," he mumbled, wondering how he hadn't noticed what he was doing. "I didn't realize…"

"It's all right."

None of this was "all right", his mind wanted to scream. Instead, Chakotay drew a fortifying breath and concentrated on listening to the doctor make her damning report.

"The soldiers did some damage with their little games, of course. Nothing that should be too difficult to repair. Much of it has been addressed already. We are only speaking in terms of minor muscular damage, you must understand…"

"And the general? How far did he get?" the chancellor demanded coldly, directly, making Janeway turn completely white and Chakotay's heart stopped beating in that moment that he looked back at her stricken face.

His heart fluttered unpleasantly. He could see now that she _did_ know…remembered at least part of it.

The doctor shot the captain a smug look full of barely contained derision, noticing her sharp intake of breath and tensing muscles and chided, "Captain, do calm down. Such hysteria serves no purpose. You are hardly in any present danger of mistreatment, after all. I'm sure the entire experience was unpleasant, but that's no reason to–"

"You will address your comments to me and _only_ to me," the chancellor growled on the heels of having emitted the angriest noise Chakotay had ever heard – including those that had come from the general's throat as the commander had been pummeling him into the hard stone ground. Chakotay's head snapped up in concern, but Gerros wasn't looking at the two of them; his focus was on the female physician, and his orange-flaring eyes seemed to burn with a blanketed rage. "Do not speak to her as if you were her equal! This woman is by far your better, and next to her, you are _nothing_! In fact, you are beneath her notice!"

"Excellency, I only meant…" the woman stammered, paling noticeably, but Gerros wasn't placated in the slightest.

"I know very well what you _meant_, Nyra, and if you had an ounce of sense in that physician's brain of yours, you wouldn't presume to mock your betters. You may be one of my most gifted healers, but there are plenty of others who could take your place. Do not presume yourself indispensible to me – or even immune to finding yourself on the receiving end of those very techniques you so casually mock now. I'm quite sure I could find some underworked troupe of soldiers, even with the current situation, who would be happy enough to make sure you regretted your words, _do you understand me_?"

The physician quailed noticeably under her master's ire, blinking rapidly in her mounting distress, and the commander and captain alike found themselves appalled (if not surprised) at the casual threat the Jehnz-yin chancellor threw out in his displeasure, but Chakotay still caught the look of pure venom the woman shot at Kathryn before making a low bow of deference.

"O-of course, Excellency. Forgive me." The woman seemed entirely unsure of herself now in the face of the chancellor's rage.

"Now answer my question. How far did he get?" the chancellor again demanded.

Janeway didn't want to hear that answer. She didn't want to think about any of that: how Chakotay had come to find her, what had been happening when he had, or what he had most likely stopped the general in the act of doing when he'd arrived. She could recall the sensation of clawed hands digging into her hips and of agonizing pain in both legs as they'd been positioned with no regard for the grievous injuries they'd already sustained at Xi's hands…

She recalled burning, but she simply didn't have it in her to break into the conversation being had back and forth across her bed, one way or the other. It was as if she was frozen, suspended in a bubble of terrified inactivity, and it was neither like her nor was it within her power to change in that moment.

"There is no mark on her neck," the physician mumbled.

Nothing more was said for a moment. In the tense silence that followed, Chakotay couldn't stop himself from saying, "What does that mean? There was no mark on her neck? What does that signify?"

"Answer him," Gerros growled tersely at the physician's questioning glance.

"He was diverted from his intent before he could initiate the joining."

Chakotay felt a massive ball of tension releasing within him at this news. He hadn't… In the past few weeks, he'd avoided asking the question, even in his mind. Couldn't bring himself to be able to think about… But it had hung over him like the blackest of storm clouds nonetheless. Hearing that the captain had at least been spared one indignity, perhaps the worst, relieved him of that unacknowledged albatross of ignorance, at least. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling Kathryn's hand go lax in his – he assumed in relief, also.

"You're certain?" the chancellor was demanding pointedly. "It looked from here as though he'd…"

"No. There was no mark." The doctor sounded positively miserable at having to admit it aloud, and Chakotay knew why. It was a topic she'd been avoiding directly addressing, probably assuming the commander had been dying to know, most likely because she had seen just how much seeing Kathryn in pain bothered him, and she had no love for "the humans" as she usually referred to them. The woman had enjoyed tormenting him with the uncertainty of it, and she was certainly no reason to rethink his hatred for all things Jehnz-yin.

"Good. Now get out, Nyra. And take your minions with you."

The trio bowed low once again, all three looking decidedly relieved as well upon dismissal, then, as one, filed out of the door without further comment.

The chancellor, still flanked by his aides, bowed again to his guests. "I'm of course pleased that my father was unable to complete such a reprehensible act, Captain. On behalf of the Jehnz-yin people, you have my sincere apologies for the terrible ordeal you have suffered at General Xi's hands."

"Why?" she found herself whispering. Janeway's heart had begun beating more normally, but none of the shock had really washed away as of yet.

The chancellor frowned. "Why what?"

She tried to shift herself so that she was more upright in bed, but her muscles were every bit as weak as they'd warned her they would be. They felt like gelatin, and if it hadn't been for Chakotay's immediate realization of her intent and his subsequent assistance, she probably wouldn't have managed it at all. Once she had, she was able to look the chancellor more in the eyes, gaining a perspective on her instinctual fear while she tried to come to terms with the fact that the man before her was not the same man that had tormented her for hours on end, and she clarified, "Why should you care what your father did or didn't do? We killed him," she reminded, the steel in her voice reminiscent of the woman she'd been…before. "Why should it please you that he wasn't able to harm me further before we did?"

_We_. She was assuming responsibility for her role as leader, and Chakotay's heart leapt a bit more at that sound, at that timbre in her voice. The note of certainty, of unsatisfied curiosity, however morbid the circumstances. It was almost Kathryn. _Almost_.

The Jehnz-yin's careful, rasping voice broke into his thoughts. "The general…was acting outside of the government's authority. In fact, he was ordered to stop long before your injuries became grievous."

She didn't pick up on it immediately, but Chakotay did. "Long before her injuries became grievous," the commander echoed with an ever-darkening visage. "You've just admitted to having had knowledge of the captain's predicament, Chancellor, if not from the beginning of her capture, than at least early enough on to have seen much of what took place."

The chancellor said nothing. Neither did he look uncomfortable at this accusation.

The Jehnz-yin met Chakotay's challenging eye with implacable, confident silence as the human continued, "Their treatment of her was unacceptable from the outset. What she was subjected to from the very beginning were things no living being should have to endure at the hands of another. Obviously you were comfortable enough with much of what occurred on that base to hold your silence, at least for a time. And yet you expect us to believe that you suddenly changed your mind once the stakes got too high for you to stomach?"

Xi…the younger…smiled, and, for the first time, Chakotay caught a hint of menace in that wide, toothy countenance before the tall alien masked it under a neutral expression. "What you believe, Commander, is of no consequence. You have only to cooperate with my directives, and all will remain cordial between us from here on out."

"What directives? What are you talking about?" Chakotay pressed, no longer fearing for his charge's growing weariness but more for her safety. "Why don't we get straight to the point here? What do you want from us, Chancellor?" he demanded coldly.

"I would prefer to discuss this with the captain, Commander," Xi retorted with just a hint of ire creeping into his rasping voice. "Unless you have assumed her role during her convalescence, of course?"

"No. He hasn't," Janeway spoke up at last. "But I can assure you there is nothing that you can say to me that cannot be said in front of my first officer." The brief glance she shared with Chakotay told him as much as her words did; she meant it. Kathryn would not be quick to make that mistake again, and, for both of their benefits, she added, "Mister Chakotay is privy to my every confidence."

"Nevertheless, Captain, he is not privy to mine," Xi countered smoothly, unaware of the deeper exchange taking place in front of him. "He has yet to prove himself worthy of my confidence."

"And I don't?" she inquired incredulously.

"You, Captain, have earned my admiration." Gerros's oval, now dark eyes fixed intently upon the woman sitting up in bed across the room from him. "While the commander has gained my respect – as evidenced by the fact that he has been allowed to remain at your side this long, despite his less than cooperative demeanor at times – he has not yet proven himself a great leader in my eyes."

"How so?" It was demanded, in a commanding cadence if not with the typically strong voice to back it up. "He infiltrated the same military base that I did. In fact, from what I understand, if your guards hadn't come calling at the precise moment they did, he would have managed to escape it unscathed, which is something I wasn't able to do, was it?"

Chakotay met the Jehnz-yin's hard gaze without flinching as Xi allowed, "What you say is true, Captain. However, what you accomplished and were willing to sacrifice was for the benefit of your people. The commander's actions were clearly all for the love of one woman. Which makes him a wonderful mate, perhaps. But it does not make for a particularly convincing demonstration of his capacity to lead."

"You're overstepping the bounds of polite interaction, Chancellor," the captain snapped warningly. At least, it was meant to be a snap. In reality, her tired voice managed little more than a general tone of rebuke.

He made no response. Xi's gaze slid from her to Chakotay, and the commander's eyes narrowed under the Jehnz-yin's scrutinizing gaze. The chancellor obviously meant to gage his reaction to the assumption of a closer connection between the command team than met the eye. Chakotay kept his cool under the piercing stare of his adversary – and he _was_ an adversary, a captor, no matter that they'd been pretending otherwise – until the chancellor finally turned his attention back to Janeway.

"Forgive me, Captain. But I can see that you're exhausted. I think, perhaps, that now is not the time to pursue this conversation –"

"No." All remaining eyes in the room drew back to the pale woman on the bed. "The commander and I have been separated from our ship for far too long already. Too much has happened between our people, Excellency, for me to believe for one moment that your intentions are in any way philanthropic. Your bringing me here had nothing to do with generosity; I think we both know that. You insult our intelligence by pretending otherwise."

"And here, Captain, I thought you were a diplomat," Xi smirked in response. "I gathered from your many attempts at communications with us that you were more oriented to peace and peacemaking. You spoke in impressively charming phrasing when urging me to a peaceful solution for all parties involved, as I recall."

"And I recall you ignoring us completely," Janeway snapped quietly in response. She forced her eyes to remain open despite the fatigue that wanted the pull the heavy lids closed and block out the world, reality, for as long as possible. Chakotay, and then XI, more recently, had been entirely correct in his assertion that she was exhausted. If she felt she'd had any choice, she would have put this entire meeting off for just a few hours while she snatched some much-needed sleep, but, under the circumstances, she knew she didn't really have that option. Wise or not, she wanted this all out in the open as swiftly as possible and forged on, abandoning diplomacy for some future occasion when it might prove more fruitful. "If you'd had any interest in peace, you would have responded to me then. What is it you really want from us? Why have you brought us back to your estate?"

Once again, Gerros carefully studied his quarry. She surprised him: pleasantly so. He had seen the naked terror in the woman's eyes when she had first noted his arrival. He thought he could still detect a hint of it now, though it was carefully hidden behind a practiced mask of purpose. He toyed with the idea of stepping forward, just to see her reaction then, but knew doing so would agitate the male by her side. If he forced the human's hand, forced him to respond with what he perceived to be necessary violence in her defense, his guards would kill him where he stood. And that would upset her. This he knew instinctively already, and he did not yet want her upset. Not unless she left him no alternative.

He smiled, feeling the expanse of his sharp teeth freeing themselves from the covering tissue of his lips and gave a small nod. A small concession. "Very well, Captain. As you wish. As to what I want…" he spread his clawed hands wide. "I want what you want. Peace, between our people, yours and mine. But above all, peace with the remaining Oncaveat in the sector. There have been too many lives lost already. Too much time has been wasted on this futile and pointless feud between our tribes. For some time now, I have believed it in our best interests to coexist with the Oncaveat in a peaceful cooperative union, if you will."

Janeway was more than taken aback by the benevolent speech. She stared at him, her jaw gaping only in the slightest, then exchanged a look with Chakotay before venturing, "Even if I were to believe you really had any interest in calling off your blood sport, I don't see how I can be of any use to you now. Without my ship…"

"I assure you, Captain, all I need is you. You will be the one to help me bring about this end, once and for all."

"I don't understand." It was said flatly, which was all she could manage.

"Perhaps this can be conveyed best if I simply show you."

A nod to his senior assistant and personal body guard had the man moving swiftly to the wall at the end of the bed where he drew back a small blue curtain to unveil a moderately sized viewscreen. At the reveal, the commander started, realizing he hadn't thought to take a very thorough look at what was behind that unobtrusive swatch of hanging fabric, having assumed it to be the Jehnz-yin equivalent of crude artwork. What else hadn't he seen in this room where he had spent the past two weeks attending to his ailing captain? He resolved to take a thorough look over the room later.

"This is the view outside of the main palace gates at this very moment."

The viewer switched on at the guard's manipulation of the small control panel to reveal…what was quite possibly the largest public gathering either of them had ever seen. Thousands of Jehnz-yin were crowding the opulent palace gates, barely held back by the guards lining the entryway. A well-dressed official in resplendent robes addressed the crowd, or rather, tried to, from an open terrace built into the palace behind the sturdy gates, but he was virtually ignored. The crowd was ecstatic, roaring over him, but it was not the typical, indistinguishable roar of a crowd or mob. As the image solidified and the two humans took in the unruly scene, it gradually became apparent that the throng was chanting a specific phrase. Like a mantra, the members of the crowd repeated the sounds with excitement and almost with reverence. They seemed hypnotized by the chant, drawn and compelled by some unseen force to keep repeating it over and over again. It was a simple chant: two syllables the translators in the room, Chakotay's commbadge included, had no need to interpret. They were familiar sounds forming a single, very familiar sound…a name.

Kathryn's eyes widened at the same instant she felt Chakotay turn to her in stunned realization. They'd both recognized what was happening at once…what it was the masses were saying.

_Janeway_.

The crowd was chanting her name.

* * *


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one, they're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: Thanks, Chesh, for the sounding board help. Again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

* * *

It took some time for the shock of the chancellor's reveal to wear off. In all that time, he'd simply stood, grinning at the display while Janeway and Chakotay had an entire conversation with their eyes alone. Neither knew what this meant, but both knew that whatever "this" was, it wasn't good.

"What are they doing?" Janeway ventured after a long silence that was punctuated only by the continuing chant of the crowd on the viewscreen.

"Isn't it obvious? They're calling for you, Captain," the chancellor informed her quietly. Proudly. "They think you're there, in the main palace. Only I, and a handful of my trusted servants, know you are here, not there."

"Why?" Chakotay spoke up. "What do they want with the captain?" Personally, he couldn't think of anything a screaming crowd of Jehnz-yi could be calling for that boded well for his commanding officer.

"To see her." Xi smiled in the captain's direction as she watched the screen, his manner decidedly expansive. "To know that she is here…and real. Perhaps to touch her, in hopes that some of her powers will rub off on their dull, insignificant lives."

"Powers?" Kathryn drew in a sharp breath. She wanted to clear her exhaustion-clouded brain, but focusing was difficult even with the additional oxygen. "I don't have any powers, Chancellor. Not the kind you're hinting at."

"Please. Call me Gerros. There need be no formalities between us, Kathryn. I hope you don't mind me calling you Kathryn?"

Chakotay's stomach sank when she didn't object. A quick glance at her face told him why she hadn't; she was fixed on something only she could see as she stared at Xi. It wasn't enough of a stare that Xi noticed, but something had thrown her. Her skin had gone pale again and her right hand was inconspicuously fiddling with the coverlet spread over her.

"As for your power," Xi was continuing, forcing the commander's focus back to him again, "I can think of no greater feat than to return from the dead. We all watched you die, Kathryn. There was no way a human woman should have survived those injuries. And yet," he spread his long arms wide, revealing neatly manicured claws, "here you are, alive and mending."

At the squeeze of her first officer's hand, Janeway pulled herself back just in time to catch the chancellor's explanation. If the muscles in her arms had been any stronger, she would have brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose against the fatigue headache she felt forming.

She didn't believe this man was Garan Xi. His inflections were different. He spoke more intelligently. The rest of it was what was hard to rationalize: the close physical likeness to Xi, the nearly identical voices, and even some of his mannerisms. All things that could easily be explained by genetics, she supposed. He hadn't had the same air about him as his father had when he'd addressed her by name. It was presumptuous of Gerros, but not intentionally cruel, and yet she'd been yanked back to that interrogation room just by hearing him speak her name. Her brow furrowed in concentration. Now that she'd pulled herself back to the present, Janeway turned his last words over in her mind, forcing her sluggish mind to process faster than it wanted to…

"Your people watched the general's transmission? Here?" It slowly sank in. The mortification at having been seen in that condition. Every cry that had escaped her tight control, every depraved cruelty inflicted on her body and on her mind. A shudder was only half-repressed, but past that, there was comprehension, finally. "They watched me die, you said. They think I'm some kind of…"

"Supernatural being? Goddess, even?" Xi was grinning, pleased with her deduction. "Very good, Kathryn. That is precisely what they think you are. In large part because that is what I have encouraged them to think."

"Why would you do that?" She didn't like the direction this conversation was taking at all.

"Several reasons," the chancellor replied with an oblivious, magnanimous air. "The people weren't going to take the attack on Osalik lightly otherwise. They would have demanded your head for the loss of their precious general. More importantly, for some time now, I have been looking for a way out of this senseless war–"

"This isn't a war, it's a slaughter," she shot back sharply, ignoring the part about her head being unimportant.

Xi wasn't perturbed. "As you say, it is rather one-sided."

"Then why would you care about ending it?" Chakotay pressed.

"Contrary to the opinion you seem to have formed, we are not animals. I believe your perception of my people has been colored by your unfortunate experiences with our military – "

"Something that was within your power to influence from the beginning, Chancellor," Chakotay reminded him. "Yet you chose not to."

Now the chancellor's frustration showed clearly on his face. "I had less of a choice in the matter than you seem to think," he growled. "Our military doesn't operate under the government's authority." At the incredulous expressions before him, Gerros shook his head. "I see it isn't the same for you. Allow me to try and explain. I have official executive influence, but politically, my hands have been tied. My people are quite proud of their military. They practically worship them." At the still-blank expressions on his audience's faces, he tried, "Here on Ghanza Prime, a soldier needs only his weapons belt in order to live nearly as well as I do. He pays for nothing. Lodging is free. Any citizen or shopkeeper would consider it an insult if he tried to pay for a meal or some trinket that caught his eye. He doesn't pay for the company of his female companions; no brothel keeper would charge him. Even among the upper classes, it's considered an honor to comfort a Jehnz-yin soldier."

Janeway couldn't help herself. "Is that what the general thought he was offering me?" she spat. "_Honor_?"

"No." Xi's eyes, for the first time, had difficulty meeting hers. "And let me be clear that I do not agree with his actions regarding you, Kathryn. My father knew precisely what he was doing to you; he intended to humiliate you. I won't pretend otherwise."

"Yet the picture you've just painted would have us believing he thought it was his right. In our culture, men and women are equals. Men don't have the right to do what your father almost did the captain." His choice of her title was no accident; it was the only protest Chakotay was capable of making against the use of her given name. "Are your women treated as second class citizens, Chancellor?" Chakotay asked bluntly.

"Only those born into that second class."

"Meaning?"

Xi sighed. "I can see our societies differ a great deal."

Janeway and Chakotay didn't bother concealing the look they exchanged, one that roughly translated into "you can say that again".

"Most of our women consider it an honor to comfort a man of the military, as I stated." The chancellor seemed perturbed at having to explain what, for him, was common sense. "But some choose not to, and they aren't obligated. Soldiers don't have any right to that comfort. Though I'm sure if you asked some of them they'd tell you otherwise. It's only lesser races they–"

He cut himself off abruptly at the realization of what he'd been tricked into saying and sighed again. Nodding to his aides, who reluctantly stepped back from him, he waited until they'd moved over to the far wall with hands on weapons, watching closely, but no longer in ear shot. "We're getting off topic. To sum up, our women are not mistreated as you infer, Mister Chakotay. They are permitted to make their own choices. They simply do not enter the military as yours do. " Xi turned about, pacing a tight line back and forth in front of the two humans and seemed to relax somewhat as he continued. "Throughout our history, there are a few legendary exceptions to that last rule. You, Kathryn, bear a striking resemblance to one such figure. It is in this regard that I hope we can prove useful to each other."

"How so?" The urge to order this man to spit out whatever it was he wanted to say was strong, but she held her cool just barely.

The chancellor turned back to her, his leathery forehead crinkling with pleasure. "If you'll bear with me, Kathryn, I will explain everything, and once I have, I think you'll agree with me that this plan is rather brilliant. As I said, my people hold the military in extremely high regard…it's what allowed me to climb to power in my own right."

"_You_ were in the military? Of course. Your father," Janeway murmured in understanding. "You were raised in the military, weren't you?"

It did absolutely nothing to reassure her – or Chakotay, if the set of his jaw and shoulders meant anything – of the chancellor's trustworthiness.

"Yes." He nodded, unaware of the implications this revelation had for his guests. "I was raised by my father, General Xi, so of course I entered the military at a very young age. And the military exists officially to safeguard our borders against invasion from external forces. But," he shrugged, "as vastly deserted as much of the outlying space around our borders is, we rarely have trespassers to contend with. You were the first in several decades. And the first in recorded history to elude us for so long."

"Some of the Oncaveat have managed to avoid your military," Chakotay pointed out.

"I suppose so. But they are down to just a fraction of what they once were," Xi gritted, seeming annoyed at the commander's interruption – and what he seemed to take as criticism to his peoples' military prowess. "They no longer gather in large settlements, and they no longer have the technology or the resources to live as a civilized society. They're no better than nomads, piloting their few remaining decrepit ships around abandoned moons, looking for places to hide and farm in secrecy as small families or groupings. Most have either crossed over or been wiped out by now."

"Your people stole their technology," Janeway interjected, recalling what Benzas has told her of his peoples' history with the Jehnz-yi. "If you hadn't, they'd still be flourishing."

Xi shrugged, trying to look repentant and failing utterly. "As you say, Kathryn."

"And the imperial guard?" Chakotay queried. "Where do they fit in to all of this?"

"The guard is charged with the home world's defense and with maintaining order among the people here at home."

"And serve as a deterrent to any military general with ambitions of expanding his leadership role to the government," Chakotay deftly inferred. Xi's grudging smile confirmed his suspicions.

"Yes. That too. I was accepted so easily into the political arena in large part because of my background, though I did have to leave the military to assume my position. The public has always supported the military's agenda, and General Xi has kept their bloodlust stirred quite effectively. Like those before him, he lived for the ultimate goal of destroying every last Oncaveat in existence. Under my father's continued leadership, my people would never have been convinced to abandon this quest for their annihilation."

"And why does this matter so much to you?" Janeway demanded, seeing this one glaring point clearly despite her exhaustion; it wasn't hard. "Why should you care when the majority of your people clearly don't? It isn't because you're half Oncaveat, is it?" she leveled pointedly, noting the chancellor's automatic flinch.

"What?" Chakotay was stunned by the revelation. Half Oncaveat? The chancellor of Ghanza Prime borne of a union between his father and one of the "lesser races"? He couldn't have heard that correctly.

"No," Xi smirked, ignoring the first officer's gasp. "It's not my heritage that makes me reconsider the war, but the cost involved in continuing it. There are many half breeds among our people; it's a simple fact of our existence. I was raised Jehnz-yi. My heritage means nothing; I'm no less Jehnz-yin at heart for it."

A warning he should probably take to heart, Chakotay thought darkly. Aloud, he asked, "And no one resents you for your origins? Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe."

Xi shrugged. "Jehnz-yin genes tend to dominate over Oncaveat. As you see, I resemble my father almost exactly. It's hardly noticeable. And why should any Jehnz-yin begrudge me my Oncaveat genes when they are so rarely in evidence? I am Jehnz-yin to the core, Commander, and no one among my people has ever had cause to question that. Not with my military record."

"But those genes are there, nonetheless. You may be content to let others forget them, but _you_ haven't, have you? You use them to your advantage," Janeway pressed tiredly, continuing mostly for Chakotay's benefit. "That's how you located so many of those rifts. Your mother is a senator…and you're able, somehow, to 'listen in' on her thoughts, aren't you?"

Gerros leveled Janeway with a hard look, glancing back to the guards to ensure they were still out of earshot before finally nodding in approval. "I can see my father underestimated you in many aspects, Kathryn. You managed to pry it out of him in the end, didn't you? Very good."

"Hardly. He didn't care what he let slip at that point; he had no reason to believe I would live to tell anyone your little secret."

Chakotay started at this new information, also. He'd heard Kathryn tell Benzas the spy was a woman, but he hadn't had the energy to spare on analyzing her statement at the time. "I thought only Oncaveat could make that link…that even half Jehnz-yin children had no telepathic bond with their parents," he ventured, unsure whether or not he'd gotten this detail correct. He'd known of the Jehnz-yin habit of coupling with Oncaveat captives; with all they'd witnessed on Benzas's ship, there had been a long discussion on the topic afterward… Had he misheard the details?

"Until me, that is what most thought," Xi acknowledged coolly. "Kathryn is correct; I am half Oncaveat. You've met my father, so I'm certain you can guess the circumstances of my birth. My mother was his captive when she had me, and somehow, she found an opportunity to escape shortly after I was born. She left me for dead. I'm not certain why the bond formed between us, but to an extent, it did. We never bonded properly, as an Oncaveat mother and her child would, but enough of the bond formed and lingered that, as I grew older, I became aware that I could tap into her consciousness with great concentration on my part. It took practice, but I was able to refine my abilities as I grew older."

"She never noticed?" Chakotay inquired softly, floored at the revelation. "She had no idea?"

Xi's voice was decidedly flat as he responded, as if the topic was something he preferred not to discuss. "She, believing me dead, never picked up on it. I doubt it ever occurred to her to wonder. I was able to listen in without her knowledge."

"Giving you one hell of a success record for finding Oncaveat vessels, I'm sure," Kathryn clipped. "Because your mother is a senator, she was privy to the sensitive information you needed in order to ambush every single rift attempt over the last ten years."

At this, Chakotay's blood ran much, much colder. Though there had been several female senators on Voyager, he'd met only one such woman with the obvious scars of captivity on her person. One woman, and she had been with them at Osalik…Shasta Accor, Benzas's friend. She had been brought back with them, and though he'd tried to keep her close to him also, she'd been removed from his presence sometime during the initial treatment of Kathryn's injuries on the guard ship while in transit to Ghanza Prime…when he'd been understandably distracted by the sight of those Jehnz-yin physicians cutting her open in order to address some of the severe internal damage.

He'd tried to ask the doctors about the woman's whereabouts, but he'd been put off each time. It had to be her, though. How could it not be?

"That's how the military has known where to find each rift before it was opened," Janeway continued. "There was never a spy in the senate. None intentionally, that is. The spy was you all along."

"Well. It's a moot point now." Gerros smiled thinly. "The military is all but crippled. That rift took out half of the major bases on that moon when it imploded, as well as a good portion of our warships. It will be difficult to mount much of a hunt for some time to come. But that was your intention, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I wanted to give them a fair, fighting chance against being ruthlessly slaughtered – and my people a chance at getting past the stranglehold you had on this region of space. And with your refusal to negotiate for a peaceful solution, you left me little alternative."

Chakotay moved slightly closer to her side at the flash in Xi's eyes. At his movement, the first he'd made in several long minutes, the guards at the far side of the room shifted, training their weapons on him, but they relaxed when he remained still. Somewhat.

Quietly, Chakotay informed her, "Senator Accor was taken with us from Osalik. I believe she was brought back with us, but they haven't let me see her. It's her, isn't it?"

"Yes." Xi answered for Kathryn without hesitation, his rasping Jehnz-yin voice a growl. "Senator Accor is my mother, Commander. Not that I can see how that's any of your business."

"It's our business if you intend to harm her, Chancellor," Chakotay countered. "She was a friend of Senator Cori's, and Benzas Cori was a friend of Kathryn's. She also helped to save Kathryn's life."

At this information, Kathryn's eyes slid shut for a moment, both grief and exhaustion tugging mercilessly at her insides. Damn it, she was really too tired for this…

"Have you harmed her, Gerros?" she demanded, opening her eyes to the surprising sight of a flash of pleasure from the chancellor's dark eyes.

She couldn't guess that the chancellor's pleasure was a direct result of hearing her speak his name aloud for the first time. If she had, she would have been more uneasy than she already was.

"No. I haven't decided how to handle the senator as of yet. I intended to deal with her after we were certain we could stabilize you."

"And now that you have? What do you intend to do with her? With us?" Kathryn asked directly.

Xi was quiet as he observed the determination in his adversary's tired blue gaze. She did not disappoint him, even when she annoyed him. He hadn't counted on her interest in his biological mother, or in her attachment to her first officer. He wondered now if both inconveniences might possibly be used to his advantage, but that remained to be seen.

Aloud, he said simply, "I suppose that all depends on your willingness to help me now. By some incredible twist of fortune, you bear a striking resemblance to one of the goddesses of our ancient faith. With the remarkable circumstances of your death and then your subsequent return to the living, the timing couldn't be better for what I have in mind."

Her stomach began to twist uncomfortably as Xi, finally, got to the point she'd been seeking since he'd entered the room.

"Aside from your fair skin, which I believe can be explained away easily enough, you fit her description down to the color of your hair…though the goddess had no hair, she was described as having worn a halo of–"

"Fire." Chakotay almost smirked as he came to the conclusion on his own. What else could it be?

"Correct," Xi smiled.

At Janeway's questioning frown, Chakotay simply shrugged and remained silent.

"And my resemblance to this woman will help you…how, exactly?"

"It is my intention to promote this likeness to my advantage. It's your image I intend to use to promote my agenda to end the Oncaveat campaign. I've already begun doing so, as you see." He gestured to the viewscreen that, though muted, still reflected the crowds chanting her name. "Xi was their hero. His death created a convenient gap which you can easily step in and fill. You can inspire them. You already have. With your help, I believe my people can be persuaded to focus their efforts now upon rebuilding our society, with an emphasis placed on the future and in securing that future, instead of on the past and destroying the remaining Oncaveat."

It began to sink in then, what he wanted her to do, and how he intended to accomplish it.

"Of course, your cooperation will be crucial to the success of this endeavor. So. My peoples' future…the Oncaveat's future…really rests in your hands." Xi turned away from the now-silent viewscreen, and his eyes burned with a fierce intensity, sparking orange as they alighted on her face, taking in her dubious expression. "Will you help me, Kathryn? Will you help me to end this war between our people, once and for all?"

* * *


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one, they're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: This is a long one, but it was done, so I'm posting it all as one. Feel free to skip to the J/C part. I'm completely fine with that. Thanks, Chesh, for the sounding board help and suggestions...yet again.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

When Neelix emerged from sickbay, he'd been a guest of the infirmary for nearly a full month. He was not the same man he'd been before he'd left the ship, but perhaps that was just as well, for it was a very different ship that he stepped out into now. The atmosphere had been tense before. There had been an aura of urgency, of battle-readiness surrounding every person. But now there was a mixture of frustration and fear marinating in the stale sweat of the uniformed figures patrolling the ship: a mixture that was impossible to ignore. It had even been noticeable at the moment he'd finally regained consciousness, when he'd been confined to sickbay, and it only meant one thing. The captain was still missing. He'd known it immediately. The atmosphere had been lacking that special something, that indefinable essence only her presence provided, and its place was the stench of hopelessness.

Neelix wondered many times as he lay there, staring at the ceiling, that unfestive grey ceiling he still hated, whether the captain would ever be fully aware of the effect she had on her crew. And whether she was ever going to have the chance to know now.

When the Flyer had finally returned, after nearly a week of limping back to Voyager's hidden coordinates, the atmosphere had brightened for just a few blessed moments, until it had become apparent that she had not come back with the shuttle this time, either. Neither had the commander.

That only made the situation worse.

The senior staff was even more overworked than before, and every one of the junior officers knew it. Aware of this, Neelix had tried not to take it personally when Tom had nearly cried with relief as the doctor swept back into sickbay and, with barely a glance and an absent pat on the Talaxian's shoulder, the helmsman had bolted for the door. It was really a good thing, Neelix had told himself. He knew Tom had been insanely overtaxed that past week, and of course only the doctor had the necessary skill to reconstruct Neelix's destroyed left eye and missing index finger. They'd even had to keep a distraught Naomi Wildman from visiting her godfather after he'd regained consciousness, not wanting to scare the child with his grisly appearance. The doctor's return meant that Neelix could finally be completely healed, and, two days after that, poor Naomi finally saw for herself that Neelix would be fine. Her relief was obvious, and Ensign Wildman assured him it was the first smile she'd seen on her daughter's face in days.

It was the _only_ good thing that had happened in the past few weeks, to the morale officer's way of thinking.

Now, released at last, he made his way to the hydroponics bay, determined to root through the ships dwindling stores and somehow come up with a decent meal for the crew. He'd been told they'd been fending for themselves in his absence, too busy with other tasks to worry about assigning someone to the mess hall to take his place. Which meant they needed him, needed him to be strong and to set aside his recent traumas for the sake of the rest of them, he'd decided. He absently wondered if the effort might not be, at the very least, a bit of distraction from those dark and troubling memories, the horrors that seemed to snap at his heels, ready to overtake him the instant he let his guard down even a little bit. By resuming his usual duties immediately, Neelix hoped to help restore some of the flagging resolve manifesting itself in the faces of his friends and comrades. But this time, even he couldn't muster the determined optimism to believe that there would be any way of fixing the crisis of morale currently afflicting his beloved starship Voyager. It was a daunting task, to say the least, and especially when he had his own demons to work through.

On the bridge, history seemed to be repeating itself, and Tuvok was admittedly disturbed. Once more, he'd found himself in the position of having a choice between adhering to what he believed would be his late captain's wishes or of acknowledging the wishes of the remaining crew. And once more, it was Ensign Kim that was the pinnacle of this debate.

Despite Tuvok's estimation to the contrary, Harry Kim believed the captain and commander were still alive, and he had not been shy about sharing his opinion with Tuvok and whoever else would listen to him. According to Kim, sensor readings showed two human life signs and one Oncaveat life sign aboard one of the few ships that had lifted off from the surface of Osalisk's moon…just before a good portion of the satellite had imploded. The sensor data had been destroyed seconds later, after an unexpected surge had struck the departing Delta Flyer (which had also shot the warp propulsion system to hell). But with no confirmation of the readings left to study, Tuvok was left solely with the Ensign's word that the readings had existed in the first place.

Not that he doubted the young man's veracity, but Tuvok knew the human mind could play astounding tricks in the heat of emotionally-charged moments. He remained unconvinced that Ensign Kim's mind had not invented those readings out of a deep unconscious desire to deny that he had just witnessed what must have been the death of Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway.

The only other confirmation of Kim's assertion came from the Oncaveat named Yurros, who had beamed aboard the Flyer (with several of the rescued prisoners the commander had managed to free from their cells). Yurros claimed to be the mate of Senator Accor, who had been with the commander just before he left to make his way to the captain. Yurros swore that his mate was alive and further assured Tuvok that he would know if his mate had died. He vehemently maintained that she had not.

The sensor readings could well have been affected by the huge surge of energy the rift had caused. Other systems had been damaged, including the Flyer's warp engines; Harry could well have been mistaken. Yurros also could be falling prey to the strong desire to deny reality, simply refusing to accept the loss of his mate. And Tuvok had personally experienced the captain's last thoughts through the link. He had been aware of her last moments, and he had also known when she had left this reality for the next. He'd accepted her death and all that her death entailed. He did not believe that she could have survived an explosion of that magnitude. No, not even her.

But Tuvok had learned from his past mistakes: as acting captain, he could not ignore the sensibilities of those under his command. He'd braced himself for the coming confrontation with one or more of the senior officers and prepared his response accordingly. He would compromise between the two positions. While Voyager could not be risked by approaching the heavily guarded Jehnz-yin home world, they would wait until repairs had been completed to Voyager's engines – they'd taken heavy damage under the last skirmish with the Jehnz-yin military – which could take up to two full weeks from now, in his estimation. Once repairs were completed, they would set a course to continue on out of Jehnz-yin space, where they would find a suitably isolated location to settle their Oncaveat passengers, leaving them with a shuttle that would enable their senators to make it to next year's summit. If the captain or the commander had indeed survived and had been taken back to the Jehnz-yin planet, as Kim believed, they would have had sufficient time by then to either escape or to get word to Voyager. It was as concessive a plan as the Vulcan could formulate, and he was secretly pleased with himself for having formulated it. He stood ready to reveal his solution when the moment came.

He never got to unveil his compromise.

By the time the senior staff meeting had been formed, once Harry and the doctor had had the chance to settle in, Tuvok was quite unprepared for the reaction he received there.

Though he'd undoubtedly told the tale individually to all present, Harry gave his report of the events leading to the captain and commander's "disappearance". He concluded with his belief that the two were still alive and that they'd been taken back to the Jehnz-yin home world on a vessel bearing the markings of the Imperial Guard (a planet-based militia, according to the Oncaveat).

Tuvok thanked the ensign for his report and then proceeded to give his own summation of the events leading up to the captain's demise, explaining what he knew of her plan to open the rift which had destroyed a good portion of the Jehnz-yin military stronghold. He discounted the ensign's supposition that the command team could have survived the implosion, pointing out lastly that even if the captain _had_ escaped the rift at the last minute, her injuries would not have permitted her to live long without immediate medical treatment. When pressed, the doctor grudgingly confirmed the Vulcan's cold hypothesis, and Tuvok finished his speech by announcing that the most logical course of action would be to set course for the Jehnz-yin border immediately. He deliberately fell silent at this, ready to field the expected barrage of emotional requests and illogical, half-formed plans of rescue missions, after which he would reveal his compromise.

There were no requests or impassioned pleas to search for their missing officers. Harry only quietly repeated his insistence that the sensor readings had indicated the captain and commander were still alive just _after_ the rift had imploded. But no one foolishly suggested, as Tuvok had anticipated, that a rescue mission be mounted to approach the Jehnz-yin home world. It wasn't even hinted at. Instead of the arguments he'd expected, there was only stoic realism from the remaining senior staff.

Perhaps he'd underestimated the level of maturity this once-green group of officers had achieved over the past two years, Tuvok reflected. B'Elanna Torres spoke up while he pondered this. Before he could reveal his intention to remain in the area, _she_ suggested it.

"I'd recommend holding position here. At least long enough to complete the repairs to the engines and the bulkheads on deck two. The emergency bulkheads are still holding, but Tom says the remaining Jehnz-yin ships appear to be concentrating their search efforts far enough away that they aren't likely to stumble over us here for a few weeks at this rate. We should use the opportunity to make repairs while we can, not wait for the next confrontation when there's likely to be more damage to worry about."

"I believe Lieutenant Torres's assessment is sound," Seven offered magnanimously, completely unaffected by the unmuted sarcasm in Torres's muttered "thanks". "If this search pattern continues, our current position can be held indefinitely without fear of immediate attack."

"There's also the Delta Flyer to work on…again," Tom interjected, shooting a look at Harry, who only stared at his hands.

"He's right," B'Elanna nodded. "And we should take into account the additional strain on personnel resources we'll have to allocate for the shuttle repairs."

The doctor, working from sickbay while he tended to Neelix's remaining injuries, seconded Torres's recommendation before Tuvok could comment.

"This crew needs rest," the hologram flatly stated, "if they're expected to be in any condition to fight their way out of Jehnz-yin space. And a few decent meals wouldn't be remiss, either."

Neelix spoke up into the doctor's monitor, offering his opinion that he could stretch the ship's dwindling stores for another two months if necessary.

When Tuvok's eyebrow began to rise without any indication of a verbal response from him, Tom hastily contended, with a deadly serious affect, that the helm might benefit from a thorough check.

"During that last confrontation, I noticed the controls were a little sluggish to respond. In my professional opinion, they should be checked before we head out."

Paris's face plainly dared anyone to challenge his assertion. No one wanted to find themselves in the middle of a battle for their lives with questionable helm controls, right?

His suspicion growing with each added recommendation, Tuvok found himself staring from one impassive face to the next, noting that not one of the officers present was meeting his gaze as they spoke. Of particular interest was Harry Kim's lack of protest and the too-calm aura surrounding the young man.

Something was afoot. Apparently, Tuvok was not the only one who had learned from past experience, he reflected, looking around the table. He'd been around humans long enough to recognize the undercurrent of…something tense…in the atmosphere surrounding them. The senior staff was up to something.

Unfortunately, their arguments were grounded in sound logic.

"Very well. We will maintain our current position until repairs have been completed. You are all dismissed."

The lack of enthusiasm at his concession was the final tip-off. When repairs to the Delta Flyer were completed a full three days ahead of schedule…though officially remained listed as still unfinished…Tuvok knew for certain.

The evening the repairs to the shuttle had been completed, Harry Kim slipped into the darkened shuttle bay with all the stealth he'd acquired over the past four and half years. A few seconds later, the doors parted to admit the slimmer silhouette of Tom Paris, who was quick to join his friend on the darkened flight deck of the repaired Delta Flyer.

"So you beat out B'Elanna after all, huh?" Kim noted dryly. "Do I wanna see the scars, or did you slip a sedative into her evening coffee?"

"Harry, Harry," Tom grunted, slipping into the pilot seat Harry swiftly vacated upon sighting him. "I'm hurt. Is it so hard to believe we had a friendly discussion and came to a mutual understanding between us?"

Kim only snorted, taking his seat at tactical, and Tom sighed. "We think Tuvok suspects she might be up to something. He's been watching her a little too closely for comfort. Not that she wasn't going to try anyway…"

"So? How'd you convince her to let you come instead?"

Tom gave a tight smile. "Easy. I just reminded her how tired she is of having to repair the damage from when you're in the driver's seat." He snorted, slanting a glance at the man beside him. "Where'd you learn to fly, anyway? Chakotay been giving you pointers lately? I mean, if you wanted lessons, you could have come to me, you know…"

Harry shot him a dark look. "You're hilarious, Tom." He was quiet for a moment, glancing down at his finally-healed leg, lost in thought as he flexed the tendons experimentally. "You realize they're probably going to bust us down to crewman for this?"

"If we're lucky, that's all they'll do," Paris agreed lightly. "You ready to go?"

"Leaving without me, gentlemen?"

"You're late," Harry grunted as the EMH stepped into the still-darkened cockpit of the shuttle. "You have everything you'll need?"

The hologram slid into the rear seat, holding up his medical case for the other two to see (or not see, as the dim lighting permitted). "Everything I could carry without causing considerable suspicion, that is."

"Harry?" Tom questioned once more, the single word asking a dozen questions simultaneously.

There was no hesitation in Kim's reply. "Fire her up, Tom."

"All right, then. Here goes. Under the circumstances, I think we'll skip pre-flight and go straight for a cold start, if no one objects?" When no one did, Paris nodded and tried to key in his authorization to power up the Delta Flyer…only to find that nothing happened. "Huh," he muttered in a strange voice."That's odd…"

The doctor was leaning over his shoulder, peering anxiously at the controls. "What? What's odd?"

"Nothing happened." Tom punched in the sequence again and met with the same result. Frowning, he muttered, "The controls are locked out by command-level security codes. Who the hell…?"

While the three of them tried to process the strange precaution someone had taken to keep the ship stationary, the lights in the darkened shuttle bay came up to full intensity and the shuttle hatch slid open to reveal…

"Uh, Commander," Harry coughed, feeling the blood drain from his face. "What are you…what are you doing here?"

"Ensigns Kim and Paris." Tuvok nodded coolly to each gaping man in turn as he stepped onto the flight deck. "Doctor. I was alerted to an unauthorized attempt to power up the Delta Flyer. I had suspicions one or more of you might attempt something drastic in a foolish attempt to 'rescue' the captain and the commander." As he took up an intimidating stance directly in front of the three men, who'd swiveled their chairs to face him, all three noticed simultaneously that he'd attached his phaser to his belt. Though he made no move to draw it, his message was clear. "None of you have been authorized to remove the Delta Flyer from the shuttle bay. Please explain your presence and your attempt to bring the shuttle online."

The doctor and Harry both looked to Tom for guidance. He took a deep intake of breath. As Tom saw it, they had two options: they could lie, knowing Tuvok wouldn't buy anything they could come up with on such short notice, or they could take what was coming to them.

His jaw set in a firm, grim line, and his shoulders squared…

Now, three days later, Tom reflected upon the swift decline in crew morale. They'd kept their plans to themselves, but most of the crew had seemed to assume one of them was going to go after the command team. Now that they hadn't, and didn't seem ready to, the possibility that the command team really had been lost for good began to sink into the crew's consciousness.

Tuvok wasn't budging in his position, and, when he was able to be objective, Paris had to admit he understood the Vulcan's point of view. With nothing but Harry's fleeting observation to support the claim that the command team was still alive, it was extremely foolish to send another away team to the heavily guarded Jehnz-yin home world. He'd still have done it, if the shuttles weren't locked down tighter than Fort Knox and if Tuvok hadn't demanded Tom give his word not to make the attempt again, but they were and he had.

He worried for Harry's state of mind now that their attempt to retrieve the captain and Chakotay had been foiled. They'd each been put on report for the incident, but escaped brig time by promising they would make no such attempt again. It wasn't so much mercy on Tuvok's part that allowed them to escape harsher disciplinary action, but the fact that he didn't feel he had the luxury of confining his remaining senior staff to the brig – if he could help it.

The Vulcan had made it clear that he would take more drastic action if he was forced to, whether it left him in the position of replacing all three officers or not.

They could only stall repairs for so long. They might have two weeks left, at best, before Tuvok would eventually insist that they move on, and Tom knew that if Chakotay and the captain were still alive, it would now be up to them to find a way to get word to the ship. But as each day passed with no word from either officer, it was becoming harder and harder to hold out hope that either one had survived, and Tom saw his fears played out on the faces of the rest of the crew. They all seemed to be coming to the conclusion that they might have to accept that the command team had really been lost…for good this time. Eventually, they would have to come to terms with the reality. Eventually, Tuvok would have to insist that they hold a memorial service for their lost officers and move on.

Witnessing his best friend withdraw further and further into himself, Tom began to fear for Harry's mental state when that day arrived.

And it was drawing nearer with each passing hour.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

It took nearly ten minutes of concentrated, furious determination, but Kathryn managed to walk from the bed to the door, a full twelve steps, without help. Resting against the sturdy ivory cane Xi had sent her, she savored the satisfaction of hard-won victory but only briefly. Now came the hard part. Now, she had to make it back to the bed…much easier said than done. Her body was already exhausted, insisting that she'd just run a marathon instead of crossing the few meters from the bed to the door.

From the other side of the spacious room, Janeway's first officer watched her with poorly guarded optimism. It had taken days of grueling physical therapy to get her to this point. Initially, he'd watched her struggle to perform small exercises and observed her barely masked frustration at finding even the simplest movements challenging.

Having to be helped to dress and bathe (and every other delicate task that should have been performed in private) was mortifying to the woman who prized control of her surroundings and circumstances above all else. He knew it was a humbling experience in every regard to surrender control of herself and her body to her first officer, but for the first few days, at least, she'd had little choice other then to accept his unconditionally offered aid and support.

And, contrary to what either had expected, though it was difficult for her to take, it had been strangely healing for both of them. Kathryn had no choice but to allow his help in these matters and to put her trust in him entirely. It was during the most delicate, embarrassing tasks that they found themselves discussing all that had passed between them lately, and even before that, from when their working relationship and friendship had begun to feel the first signs of strain. Even these heavy subjects were easier to tackle than acknowledging the very real intimacy that the act of bathing her or helping her to the toilet presented. While they engaged in these tasks, they were able to finally open up and discuss the many issues lingering between them – mostly as a matter of avoiding acknowledging what he was helping her to do.

Their discussions had begun the first time he'd carried her to the bath, having forgone the doctors' offer to help her in favor of allowing Chakotay to assist her instead.

_He gently set her down in the already-drawn water. His eyes couldn't help passing over the myriad of vicious scars left from her ordeal, and his sharp intake of breath prompted her to open her eyes and take a close look at him. She noted that his gaze was caught on the scars, not on her, per se, and the embarrassment slowly faded as she followed the direction of his gaze, allowing her eyes to move over herself, to get her first real, processing look at the damage leftover. Slowly, her mind registered the horror of the mostly white marks liberally adorning her body, and she eventually had to look up again, to him. The sad look in those dark orbs drew her into them, and he had to ask the question he'd been dying to ask her since he'd found her pinned underneath the general in that filthy interrogation room at Osalik…_

"_Is it enough yet, Kathryn?" he whispered in a voice hoarse with deep regret, with pain at the danger, the horror she'd willingly subjected herself to. "Is it finally enough, now?"_

She hadn't had an answer for him then; what could she say to such a loaded question? But having asked it, Chakotay had declared his willingness to discuss all that had passed in recent weeks, and so they'd begun to work through it all.

Thus far, Kathryn had been open, honest in discussing every subject they'd dared brave. Her experience at the summit and her friendship with Benzas. What she'd felt while joined with him. How much she would miss him now, and how deeply she felt his loss.

She'd taken the brunt of Chakotay's honest appraisal of her actions without flinching…much. She'd listened to him pour out the deep hurt that she hadn't confided in him, hadn't trusted him with her intentions, or with the depression that had been settling in for months before the decision had been made. And she'd admitted to having been wrong in making those decisions – only because she hadn't discussed it with him or with the rest of the senior staff first, and then they'd discussed, at great length, the reason she'd withheld it from him.

"_You gave me your word." The hurt in his voice, in his eyes and tone, tore at her conscience with a vengeance. "After Tom and Jonas, with the Kazon…you gave me your word you'd never put me in that position again."_

_She wanted to argue that it was different, that the two situations were entirely different, but she couldn't. Fundamentally, where it mattered, they weren't. "I'm sorry," she offered lamely. "I didn't think of it like that at the time, but you're right, and I __**am**__ sorry, Chakotay."_

_He accepted her apology in silence, looking down at her sadly. "Why didn't you tell me, Kathryn?"_

_The answer was simple._ "_You would have tried to stop me."_

"_You're damned right I would have tried!" he agreed. "And I'd have found a way to do it, too."_

"_I know. And that's why I had to keep it from you." She looked up at him, her expression openly plaintive. "Please understand that I'm not defending what I did. But I did think I was doing the right thing at the time. I still do. It wasn't just for the Oncaveat. Voyager was taking a heavy beating; you know that. We weren't sure we'd be able to fight our way past so many ships, and it didn't look good. We had to find a way to take out as many ships as we could, and this was the best way to do that while putting Voyager at minimal risk. My decision was based as much on Voyager's safety as it was on the Oncaveats'."_

"_And walking into the military's custody? What the hell was that, Kathryn? Why would you have done that, knowing what they do? Why would you have put yourself in that position in the first place?"_

"_It wasn't because I wanted to suffer, Chakotay, though I know that's what you think." She shook her head, eyes focused on the way his fingers moved over the ties of the simple robe he'd just helped her into. "I don't suppose I can really blame you for thinking it, either." She sighed. "The doctor modified the safeguard at my request. I didn't like the Oncaveat version. But I __**did**__ take it. I was only supposed to be conscious for two hours, at best, before it kicked in."_

"_What??" His face drained of color as he processed what she was saying. "It sounds like you were planning this all along…" _

"_No," she assured him, meeting his eyes briefly as she shook her head. "I just didn't like having to rely on a drug that kicked in immediately. It limited my options too much. When I asked the doctor to modify it, it was because I had no way of knowing the circumstances under which I'd find myself taking the safeguard, and I'm glad I thought to do it."_

"_You knew the rift was going to be opened on the moon?"_

"_I had an idea it would be, and it was my preferred target, but the choice was left up to Hedri and the other Unani."_

"_When did you find out what the target was?"_

"_Officially it was when she told me, just before I left in the Flyer. Unofficially, I'd guesses, as I said, especially as the time for the rift to be opened reached less than a day away and the only military target nearby was Osalik."_

"_And the base? You weren't supposed to be there from the beginning?"_

_Kathryn shook her head. "I didn't originally intend to walk into that building at all. I didn't need to. Had the original plan succeeded and the rift opened to full capacity, I would only have had to be on the moon for most of those bases to be destroyed. But once Harry and Neelix were discovered in the city and taken into custody, I didn't have a choice but to go in – and to go alone. I couldn't risk hailing the ship."_

_He saw that she was holding back on something. "And?"_

_She shrugged, shifting slightly as he poured more of the herbal tea into a cup for her to sip. "And I knew I wouldn't be able to get out of there once I'd gotten Neelix to the Delta Flyer. There wasn't time to modify another communicator. So I took the safeguard before I left, knowing there was a chance I'd be awake for a time before it kicked in."_

"_But you went anyway," he pointed out, his tone accusatory._

"_Two of my crewmen were in danger." This time her gaze was steady when she looked back at him, unapologetic. "I didn't plan that part of it. And you'd have done the same, in my position."_

That was something he hadn't been able to argue. And at least she was finally talking to him, providing answers. During her next bath, they'd discussed her need to volunteer for the mission.

"_The Oncaveat needed someone who couldn't be linked with any other senator at will. We had no way of knowing who the spy was, and using a human to hold the coordinates was the best way to ensure the secret was kept safe."_

_"But Benzas knew the coordinates. He linked with you, didn't he?"_

_"Yes, but he didn't know them. Once I received the coordinates, we were careful not to link until the danger of interference had passed."_

"_I still can't believe Tuvok didn't try to stop you."_

"_He did try," she admitted. "But he also knows me well enough to know he wasn't going to be able to change my mind."_

"_It didn't have to be you," he snapped._

"_Yes, it did," she replied. "It was a suicide mission from the beginning." She didn't see him flinch, as he was behind her, nor did she see the tightening of his hand on the towel rack. "And as captain, it was my responsibility to take that mission. I couldn't ask anyone else to take my place. I __**wouldn't **__ask anyone to take my place. I couldn't have lived with that, Chakotay."_

"_We could have found another way!" he insisted._

"_Maybe." She turned her head away when he faced her, not able to meet the intensity of his gaze. Quiet for a time. When she next spoke, he had to strain to hear her. "Maybe I didn't __**want**__ to find another way." _

That single admission was perhaps the most significant. Afterward, to a degree, she'd even discussed her guilt for stranding them here in the first place, something he hadn't been able to get at again since their abrupt encounter with the Malon had forced her out of her depressive isolation months ago… The interruption hadn't healed the condition but merely masked the symptoms, as he'd gotten her to admit clearly for the first time since.

"_It was the right thing to do."_

"_Maybe. For the Ocampa. But not for this crew. I should have tried to figure out how to use the array to get us home."_

"_There's no guarantee we could have done that."_

"_I could have __**tried**__."_

"_You couldn't have kept the Kazon off the station long enough to work it out. How long could we have expected to do that before their reinforcements arrived?"_

It had been a tough battle to get her to see his side of things. She'd been hell bent on assuming all of the blame…

"_I wasn't prepared to deal with the consequences of my decision."_

"_There we go again. 'Your decision'. Other people had a say in that, too. Tuvok agreed with you. So did I. If you'll recall, I did support you, Kathryn."_

"_You couldn't have stopped me," she dismissed automatically._

"_I might not have been able to stop you, but I could have made it a hell of a lot more difficult for you." Her surprised glare didn't cow him. "You aren't the only one who had a say in those events. And what's more is that your decision is the only reason I put my trust in you to the extent that I did four years ago, when I agreed to try and merge our crews. I don't know if I'd have been able to serve under you then, not for a long while, without having seen such a powerful example of your character."_

"_You wouldn't have had to trust me at all if I hadn't destroyed our only way home!" she snapped back at him._

_He shook his head in frustration. "You know what, you're right. Right, because I, and everyone else from my cell, would be in prison. Possibly a Cardassian prison. The doctor would still be a program with no rights or individuality, Seven of Nine would still be a drone, Neelix would still be a junkyard keeper, the Ocampa might be Kazon slaves…do I really have to go through this with you?"_

_She was silent for only a moment. "Maybe. We don't know any of that for certain. And none of it undoes the decision, or the fact that it was, ultimately, my decision. Whether you'd agreed with me or not, I'd have done the same thing, and the crew has suffered for it." When she looked up at him this time, her expression was haunted. "We've lost so many good people already, Chakotay."_

_He couldn't argue that, either. And he knew what it felt like to lose people under his command. _

"_All right," he sighed. "Yes, you made a decision that affected the lives of the people aboard your ship…our people. We may have agreed with you, but as captain, it was your call. I'll give you that. And that action had very real consequences – consequences you have to live with. I'm not trying to take any of that away from you. But you did the best you could with the circumstances you found yourself in. And what's done is done. You can't undo it. You just have to find a way to make peace with it now."_

_She glared at him as he adjusted her robe for her without thinking, helping her away from the bathroom sink without her noticing it, either. Wanting to be insulted by the implication that he'd ever not have followed her…by the way he'd simply agreed with her just now… But she couldn't be either. What he said, to her profound annoyance, made a good deal of solid, common sense. _

"_You're right," she said simply, quietly, after a moment of tense silence. _

_He looked up at her in surprise. "Thank you," he replied, a little suspiciously._

_Her eyes met his, still not quite the intense blue gaze he'd been seeking in her since she'd awoken, the one he was used to seeing reflecting on her familiar face. "But how do I do that, Chakotay? I'm not sure I know how…"_

He wasn't sure he knew, either. But he'd promised that he would help her try. And she'd promised to let him. It had been an honest discussion, at least. An open discussion. Their other talks, concerning her decision to facilitate the rift and to keep the decision from him, had been similarly open. Whether that policy would hold when the inevitable discussion about "them" came about…that part was uncertain. Time would tell.

After a few days, as her body gradually began to show signs of strengthening, they'd both come to realize that their relationship was mending in much the same fashion: slowly, and with concentrated effort. Each tentative step forward required more energy than before but pulled them closer to mending, perhaps to surpassing, what they'd had before. Through it all, they worked tirelessly to put her body on the path to recovery as well as her mind.

The therapy was brutal. He watched her strain and push against her limits, fighting and cursing her weakness. But she refused the pain medications they offered her, claiming they dulled her mind and slowed her reflexes. Pain, she claimed, she could deal with – it reminded her that she was alive. The doctors watched on skeptically, openly denouncing her chances of making real progress without the medications to help her.

True to form, she hadn't given up, even after her muscles had begun shaking with exhaustion and the pain threatened to overwhelm her, and now the reward for her efforts was at last manifesting in noticeable progress. Regenerating muscles, bones, and tendons had finally healed enough to allow her to walk on her own.

Now, Chakotay watched her turn carefully around, preparing to make the trip back across the room. He knew better than to offer assistance…yet. Instead, he held his position, an encouraging smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Recovery meant that they would soon be in a position to redouble their efforts to find a way off the planet…something it was clear the chancellor had no intention of allowing anytime soon. Thoughts of the Jehnz-yin and of his "brilliant" plan had the smile leaving Chakotay's face immediately.

He hated the idea, but he'd advised her to go along with it. Frankly, as far as he could tell, it was the best way to keep her safe. So long as the chancellor believed she had some value to him, her chances were far better of getting off this planet alive. Eventually.

The people believed she was who Xi wanted her to be, this goddess whose name he could never remember. He recalled the argument they'd had over the chancellor's request…

_"The Prime Directive," she started._

_"You're not seriously going to sit there and tell me there's anything left of it to break in this situation," he interjected flatly._

_She raised a defiant brow. "Because we've already broken it doesn't mean we have to keep doing it."_

"_The damage is already done. He's already got them convinced you're this woman. You saw the crowds."_

"_Yes." She shuddered. "I hate it. And if he thought that was enough to work indefinitely, he wouldn't be asking me to go along with it."_

_Chakotay considered as he helped her adjust the pillows so she could lie back again. "So we use it. If he wants your participation, that leaves you holding the cards. Some of them. Until we know whether or not he has Voyager…"_

"_No." She shook her head, wincing at the crick in the muscles there. "If he did, he'd have used it to garner my cooperation. And if I know Tuvok, he's gotten the ship out of danger by now. At least I hope so."_

"_You're probably right," he agreed, then caught her eye. "Which leaves us on our own from here on out, unless we can find a way out of here soon. Which isn't likely if he won't agree to let us out of this room." _

_She was quiet again for a moment, and he could see her weighing her options. "I don't trust him."_

"_Good!" he affirmed._

"_But you're right. If we're going to get out of this room and look for a means of escape, this looks like the best option. And if there's even a chance he's sincere in wanting to end this war…I won't ignore that. I can't ignore it."_

The decision had been made, and it was Kathryn who'd thought to add the condition of having the Oncaveat senator, Shasta, brought to them. With another small smile, he admired the way she'd coolly maneuvered the chancellor into allowing the woman to "serve" her. It wouldn't be remiss for a goddess to have a captive Oncaveat servant – not in Jehnz-yin society. And though Xi had wanted, had tried to argue the point, Kathryn had held her ground, citing the fact that this specific woman had earned her trust.

_Xi's demeanor grew still more agitated, more subtly threatening as the argument continued. "I can't help feeling you're being deliberately difficult, Kathryn. I don't understand why you won't consent to another servant in her place. The one I've already offered–"_

"_Is loyal to you. Shasta's loyalties are to me and me alone."_

_He paused at that, considering, his clawed fingers stroking along his embroidered ceremonial sash. "You don't trust me, Kathryn?" _

_Xi's wide grin made her flinch slightly, as it always did, but only Chakotay had noticed it, he thought. He frowned. Only in Xi's presence was her lack of confidence so obviously in evidence. _

_Deftly, Chakotay slipped into her line of vision under the pretense of offering her another sip of tea, and he noted the gratitude in her eyes as he broke her view of the imposing chancellor. _

"_Trust," Chakotay noted casually, holding the cup steady while Janeway took a small sip, "is earned where we come from, Excellency. And your people haven't done anything to inspire it yet." _

_As he pulled away from her, she took back the conversation just as naturally, her voice once again enforced with steel. "Make no mistake about this, Gerros. If you want my cooperation, she comes to stay with us, where I can be certain you aren't mistreating her. She's a personal friend, and I won't have her harmed. I want her close by so I can be sure she isn't."_

Xi had backed down, and now the senator had taken up residence in the adjoining room, the one that had originally been assigned to Chakotay. Mercifully, she had not been harmed. She'd been completely ignored the entire time she'd been separated from the two humans. Bundled into a modest room, she'd been left there with no explanation – and no exit, save for the single door that was bolted shut and locked behind the mute servants that occasionally came and brought her food. Whatever Xi's plans had been regarding her, he hadn't gotten around to putting them into effect yet.

Left with having to explain to her that the child (she'd thought dead before she'd escaped his father's brutal care) had not only beaten the odds as an infant and survived, but had also been using her much of his adult life to systematically destroy her people…his own people…Janeway had been at a loss. She hadn't rushed the task, having wanted to leave it to Chakotay to explain once the senator felt more comfortable in her personal safety. But the two women were so compatible that they'd struck up an almost instant friendship. Very quickly, Janeway couldn't bring herself to withhold the truth from Shasta, knowing the woman wouldn't appreciate her for doing so.

The senator's reaction had been heartbreaking. She'd denied the entire thing, insisting that it was an impossible fairytale, assuring Janeway she'd been lied to by Xi. Insisting that it was a trick, a cruel joke, a final torture inflicted by the general. Kathryn only kept silent, her sad gaze speaking for her, until Shasta finally stopped babbling. And then she'd turned a ghostly pallor, fled to the adjoining bathroom, and promptly lost her lunch. She hadn't stopped retching for a long while. When she reemerged, she quietly excused herself to her room, where she'd remained for three days.

Gradually, they'd been able to draw her out of her self-imposed isolation in the past few days, to coax her out of the shell she'd retreated into, and Chakotay observed the way having someone else in need was also helping Kathryn to reclaim tiny bits of herself. Though he should have known that would be an essential element to someone with Kathryn's personality, he thought to himself.

It wasn't all one-sided. Shasta had been where Kathryn was now, had been through worse, to an extent, because she had been Xi's captive for just under a year. She knew instinctively how Kathryn felt about certain things, and it seemed the two women were often having entire conversations framed in a few words. Occasionally, he felt a little shut out by it, but that was more of a leftover fear from Benzas and the way that friendship had almost ended, and he knew it; Kathryn was making every effort to keep him close, even when it inadvertently hurt one of them to do so. And she didn't shy away from answering his questions on the subject of her ordeal, though he tried to be delicate in posing them. It was only that there were things Shasta already understood and didn't need to have explained.

He couldn't imagine the kind of strength this woman must possess to have withstood that for so long, but one thing he could relate to was having had a child conceived without his permission: one taken and raised by the enemy, the enemy that had violated him in order to beget the child in the first place. Those feelings, he understood, even if it had turned out in the end that the child had not been his; he hadn't known the truth of the child's parentage at the time. He'd done his best to share his experience with both women, and neither belittled his input. They seemed genuinely open to including him in their limited discussions, when he felt up to joining them. Chakotay valued the extreme level of trust they displayed in him.

Kathryn was slowly growing used to his touch, a good thing, as he had to touch her often to help her with the simplest tasks. Shasta offered her aid in some of the more intimate tasks, but as a practical matter, she hadn't the strength to carry Kathryn's admittedly slight weight, and so it was still Chakotay who continued to serve as the captain's nursemaid. It was growing easier for both of them.

The senator spent most of her time in her room, alone, but if she happened to be present when the chilling doctors arrived for their daily sessions, Shasta left immediately. Anything Jehnz-yin was far too much for her to handle at the moment.

Xi had not returned to their room, seeming put off by the notion of having to face Shasta, despite the fact that the woman was usually in her own room. He sent messages via the doctors and, occasionally, his aids. He had not outlined his specific intentions, saying only that he wanted to be able to introduce Kathryn to small groups of people and, eventually, to larger gatherings. However, until she was at least up and walking, able to stand, he didn't think it wise for her to be unveiled as yet. Until that time, they were not going to be permitted to leave the room.

The chancellor had wanted to "allow" her to try and contact their ship, to set their crews' minds at ease about the command team's survival, but she'd outright refused his offer. Neither one of them was willing to risk that. Even if Voyager was still within communications range, there was no way they'd risk helping Xi to pinpoint the ship's location. He still had a formidable fighting force with the guard, and even the military ships that had survived the implosion at Osalik because they'd been hunting for Voyager elsewhere. Until he proved worthy of their trust, they refused to give him any more of an advantage than he already had. If they got off this planet, it would be by their own devices and not by endangering Voyager.

If Xi ever intended letting them leave. Neither one felt particularly confident that he would, even though he'd given his word that he'd permit them to leave unharmed once Kathryn had helped him achieve his aims…

Chakotay was pulled out of his reflections by a poorly muted grunt of pain from across the room. Kathryn had made it back to the bed, but just barely. She'd fallen across the edge of it. He shook his head slightly, knowing she'd pushed herself beyond her limits to make it back without calling for his help. Her strength had given out, but thankfully only once she'd had a soft surface to collapse into.

"Here, let me help." He shifted her so that she was resting on her back, staring up at the ceiling, a small grin playing across her features despite the discomfort racking her recovering body.

"I did it." She was actually beaming, he noticed, her face radiant for the first time in weeks. "I _walked_, Chakotay. Without help."

"Yes, you did." He shared in her enthusiasm, his hand automatically reaching for her outstretched fingers, closing around them and giving them a gentle squeeze. His heart soared at the sparkle in her eyes. "And you're amazing. The doctors said you shouldn't be able to do that for another week."

"Yes, but what do they know?" she scoffed.

The sight of her taking those first few steps had done more to reassure him than the all the doctors' reports over the past few weeks had. Not long ago, the physicians hadn't thought she'd make it through the fever-induced delirium to awaken again, and now, here she was up and walking under her own steam. He felt ridiculously happy, lucky to be sharing this simple yet significant victory with her.

Her grin widened as the smile broke out across his face, too. "I can't wait to see the look on Doctor Nyra's face when we tell her," Janeway smirked. "Not that she's inclined to believe us."

The two women had a mutual dislike for each other. Though the physician had backed down considerably after Xi had so harshly repudiated her, an air of contempt still radiated from the Jehnz-yin woman, and she managed to continue to make her unexplained antipathy for the captain well-felt, nonetheless.

"Then you'll show her. And she'll have to admit she was wrong," Chakotay replied, setting the cane aside to lean against the bedside table, where Kathryn could access it easily.

"Yes, she will." Janeway felt more hopeful than she had in…well…months. Her gaze caught on his as he turned back to her, and she steadied a bit. "Thank you," she said seriously, from the heart, and Chakotay knew she meant far more than just his help in getting her settled on the bed.

There was a long moment while they stared into each others' eyes. A long moment charged with things that hadn't been addressed. After a time, when she didn't do as he'd expected and break the connection, as he was accustomed to seeing her do, Chakotay gave in to an impulse that had plagued him for years, an impulse that would have been so inappropriate to follow on the ship, under the restraints imposed on their interaction there. He reached out an unsteady hand and dared to tuck a rebellious few strands of hair behind her left ear, allowing his fingers to learn the texture of the skin there, along the side of her face.

He made no move to do anything more, but as his fingertips grazed the edge of her cheekbone, Janeway drew in a sharp breath. The deliberate touch of skin on skin sent such powerful tingles of sensation through her nerve endings that it was nearly overwhelming for a moment. But she didn't pull away, didn't feel the need to pull away. Not when his eyes held so trustingly, so openly to hers. And when her hand came up to gently lay over his, he stopped the subtle stroking motion of his thumb over her temple and was content to simply stand like that, looking at her for another long while.

"You're welcome," he whispered.

* * *


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one. They're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: In case anyone still wants/is able to follow. Personally, I've had to go back and reread much of it, so I understand if it's been too long for most to keep up/follow any longer. I've about eight more chapters of this blocked out before it will be done, but having finished four other projects and gotten them off my plate in the meantime, this is/will be the sole focus of my efforts until it's finished. That's my New Year's resolution, in fact: no new projects, not until this one is done. Don't believe me? Not sure I do, either. It's true, though. :P

Chapter Twenty-Nine

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Having completed preparations to attend the fifth banquet in as many days, Kathryn stood in front of the full-length mirror, making a final inspection of her appearance, something she'd noticed herself paying more attention to this past week than she had in all the years she'd been aboard Voyager combined.

She hated the outfit, but then…she had hated them all. She'd outright refused the early models; they'd been a modified version of the military-style animal hides, and she could no longer stomach the scent of those – not that it had been easy to begin with.

The dress she wore for tonight's gathering was still far too ornate for her tastes. The deep crimson of the gown – and it was a gown more than a dress – was uncomfortably scratchy material but flattering to her skin tone, which she knew was intentional. Her skin hadn't yet returned to its normal, healthy pallor, and the chancellor had obviously taken this into account when he…or his servants, she'd no idea which…chose the colors of her gowns. A metal bodice of sorts, intricately woven into a fine latticework pattern, fit snugly over the gown. A fierce-looking ornamental dagger, supposedly a symbol of her character, rested at her side, its jeweled handle peeking out from the leather holster secured to the chain-belt about her waist, giving her a sinister appearance despite the feminine make of the gown. The jewelry, heavy and flowing, hung from her neck and wrists, aiding in the concealment of scars leftover from her encounter with the general.

The dress also leant the appearance of Janeway being much taller than she was. Long sleeved and sporting a hem that reached the floor, the gown covered most of her, a low neckline revealing the only generous expanse of skin that would be displayed. The whitened scars peeking up over the less-than-modest neckline (under the jewelry), apparently weren't a concern. Per the chancellor's relayed instructions, Shasta had applied a liberal cosmetic powder to the captain's skin (everywhere that it could be seen). The powder was chalky and heavy, doing a great deal to mask the appearance of the scars, making them almost look like the creases typical in leathery Jehnz-yin flesh instead of broken human skin. Another powder, this one lighter and iridescent gold, had been brushed through her hair, making it shine almost obscenely – to give the impression of glowing, she supposed with distaste. Her face was also heavily painted, her brows accentuated to make them look more angular, her eyelids shadowed and her lips darkened to give her more of what the Jehnz-yin would consider the appearance of health and vitality. To human standards, Janeway thought she looked like the living dead – an expression she knew she would feel keenly by the end of the unbelievably taxing evening.

The events had grown more and more draining, and being seated next to Chancellor Gerros the entire time, engaging in a grand show of friendship, even close companionship with the chancellor took most of her strength each night. Chakotay was in the room for the banquets, but he appeared as a servant and sat well at the end of the huge, narrow high table. He could see her, but only if he physically stood and peered around the long line of Jehnz-yin officials between them, something that was strongly discouraged. He was expected to sit mutely, to answer any questions posed to him by Xi's aides, and to stay put and not attract any attention otherwise. He had at least reported that one aide, the chancellor's personal aide, had seemed to be growing a tolerance for his company, if not a fondness for it.

For her part, Kathryn would sit at the center of the table, the actual living centerpiece of an elaborate display showcased before a grand hall of gaping viewers. She would endure the unnervingly close attention of the chancellor and his apparently growing admiration, the increasingly snide jibes of the few officials who knew of the deception being played out for the Jehnz-yin people, and the gawking stares of hundreds of guests to the royal halls. She would mouth the short speech she'd memorized while a recording made by a Jehnz-yin woman, who possessed the dual vocal chords to pronounce Jehnz-yin words properly, played from hidden panels on the table just below her. And she'd do her best not to notice the huge screen behind her playing silent scenes of the experience she wanted only to forget for the benefit of the crowds in front of her.

The heavy, matching cape that draped over her shoulders trailed all the way to the floor, and the effect of the whole getup was to weigh her down considerably. Walking in the outfits was even more of a struggle for her. She still had a pronounced limp, one that would probably never leave her now, but they only allowed her to walk to the banquet halls, anyway. From there, she was brought into the room and helped to sit behind the secrecy of screens or curtains, which were then pulled back to reveal her to the waiting and admiring crowds seated in the hall. She remained seated until well after the hall had been cleared, sometimes hours and hours after her initial arrival, so that no one would witness the trouble she had rising or walking.

As she stared at herself, more than slightly appalled, Kathryn caught Chakotay's approach, his reflection appearing behind hers in the mirror. In his hand, she spotted the remnants of one of the few pastries his system seemed able to handle out of a dozen different kinds that were delivered to their room on a daily basis, and her face drew into a grimace of sympathy. His choices were so limited here. Neither of their bodies took well to Jehnz-yin cuisine. Most of it made them horribly nauseous, though Chakotay seemed to have the worst of the trouble. Apart from the heavy, noxious spices in much of it, they weren't entirely certain they knew the underlying cause of their systems' rejection of the alien food. But if she had to guess, she'd say that the fact that most of it seemed meat-based, in one form or another, was part of what gave Chakotay his narrow range of edible options. His system simply wasn't used to so much meat – and particularly not to non-replicated meats or to the Jehnz-yin, alien variety of it. And the food at the feasts was typically even richer and less palatable, so they both tried to fill up before attending on the lighter fare that was sent to them each morning.

He held out the last bit of the green-stuffed pastry to her, one of the few that they'd identified as being completely without any animal byproducts, but she demurred, wrinkling her nose. Though they had a pleasant, minty aftertaste, while consuming them, those particular pastries tasted like grass and hay. But he didn't seem to mind them, so she was more than content to let him have all of them. As he popped the last bite into his mouth, his eyes slid over her, and she stood still while he appraised the culmination of over an hour's worth of work with a critical eye.

"I'd ask how I look," she noted dryly, "but I already know what a shamelessly wonderful liar you are when it comes to preserving a woman's vanity."

A small, sheepish grin flashed briefly at her in the mirror.

"While we're on the subject," she teased, "just whom does a captain thank for such a necessary trait in a first officer? Did you get that from your father?"

Chakotay glanced down at the floor, another smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Actually, no. But he was partially responsible. My father's position in our tribe often took him away from home for days at a time."

"And?"

"And…let's just say there are some things a young boy learns very quickly when left to fend for himself in a house full of women."

He smiled to hear her chuckle lightheartedly, but the smile was lost as he took her in from head to toe, and as his eyes rose, she was taken aback to see the way they'd darkened unmistakably by the time they met hers. Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his stare this time.

"Well?" she ventured breathlessly, hardly daring to look away, even to blink. "What do you think?"

"Thought you weren't going to ask," he reminded her, ignoring her raised eyebrow. "But I'll be happy to tell you what I really think. If you're sure you can withstand the brutal honesty."

It was a definite challenge, delivered with perhaps more boldness than he'd ever displayed before, particularly when coupled with that unmasked, hungry and distinctly male look in his eye, but he'd left his typical "out" for her, as always.

Even when pushing the boundaries of lines that no longer technically existed under the circumstances, he was careful not to push _her_. Careful not to back her into a corner or to ask more of her than she was able, or willing, to give. The voice, the experience that had been gradually returning to her in her dreams the past few nights flickered in the back of her mind, and through the eye contact that never wavered with the man behind her, she heard the voice in the back of her mind: _don't be a coward, Captain._

"Tell me," she insisted. Meeting the challenge with strength of voice she didn't necessarily feel while her insides fluttered in a long-forgotten thrill of anticipation. "And none of your usual 'tact', either. The truth," she counterchallenged, one hand finding her hip as her chin tilted up at him in the mirror.

"All right. But you asked." There was a twinkle in his eyes now, dispelling some of the tension as he made a show of circling her. "Firstly, you're far too thin again. That's a shame, because I'd just finally been succeeding in getting some substance to you." She gave him a half mock glare for his audacity, but her heart wasn't really in the rebuke while watching his gaze move over her as he intently assessed each aspect of her appearance. "The make-up doesn't suit you at all. It hides too much of your natural skin tone. Which is the point, I know. But I prefer you the way you are. Not hidden under layers of powder. The dress…" he shook his head, lips pursed as though in disapproval, "isn't you, either. It would be a wonderful color…with _your_ skin. With _your_ hair and eyes. But it's too much. It tries to distract attention away from you, though it doesn't quite succeed. Nothing could do that." He continued his brutal inspection, a hand rubbing across his chin as if deep in thought now. Completely lost in his appraisal, he didn't see the way her eyes darkened at the compliment hidden under the critique. "I will admit…the cut of it is perfect for you." Making his way behind her, carefully, excruciatingly slowly, he stopped there and leant his head down until his mouth was close to her ear, his tone dropping considerably. "And let's just say that while I'm appreciative of that neckline for obvious reasons, it's because I know everyone else at that table will be, too, that I have to go with hating the entire outfit, overall."

She wanted to make a joke about a physiologically different alien culture being the only place she'd ever expect to be appreciated for that particular asset, but the thought got lost in the dark pools of his eyes, again holding her gaze in the mirror.

"Is that all?" she managed to ask. Amazed that he could look at her…like _that_…at all, given the conditions and situations he'd seen her in over the past weeks.

"No," he replied, tucking back a lock of hair spilling over her face without noticing. He did that often now, watched for it to fall even a centimeter out of place, as if trying to make up for all the years he'd wanted to and hadn't dared. And as used to his touch as she had become recently, she had to admit she wasn't exactly lamenting not having the usual tools to keep her hair in place for the same reason.

"I'm just thankful to be able to see you standing here, alive, in front of me. And no matter what hideous color they paint your lips, the best thing I see in any given day," he waited for her answering grin to appear, "is _that. _But I haven't seen it often enough lately_. _I was afraid I might never see it again."

A spark rippled through her, one of remorse for the things he'd suffered as a result of her choices recently, but he didn't allow her time to wallow in it; he rarely ever did. His hands had come around her, lightly resting on her shoulders, and she turned slightly in his grasp to look up at him, a feat not easily managed with her recovering body…

From his personal chambers, Gerros adjusted the cuffs of his resplendent ceremonial robes with more vigor than necessary as he watched the two humans join mouths for the first time since they'd been brought to Ghanza Prime. Chakotay had left the bathroom door open behind him, lending the chancellor an excellent view of everything that took place within the smaller room from the monitor that had been innocuously placed over the door of their bedroom. As he peered into the viewer behind his desk, he heard the cuff rip under his less-than-tender ministrations, and a growl reverberated in his throat. The robes he wore were his finest, the best in an opulent collection, and now, he would have to settle for changing into something less resplendent. As the commander's hands moved to frame Kathryn's face, another growl rumbled up within the fuming alien leader, and he punched the button to deactivate the viewer.

He was furious. His instincts had been correct regarding the connection between the humans, despite Janeway's repeated insistence that they were nothing more than colleagues with a close friendship. He'd believed her because he had wanted to, and yet she had deceived him. The two slept in the same bed, true, but it was huge, and they did not sleep curled together. He'd thought that boundary rigidly enforced. At first. Those boundaries had been slipping away more every day. This morning, he'd switched on the viewer to find her head resting across the other human's outstretched arm, and he had chalked it up to shifting sleeping positions. But now, another line had been crossed, right under his nose, in the very rooms he had so generously provided for her comfort.

After all he'd done. All he'd risked, making her the beloved icon, the love of the people… It was a slap in the face. He'd thought (obviously mistakenly) that Janeway knew where her future lay, and it was not with the man whose embrace she was standing so shamelessly within now.

He didn't know when the shift had occurred for him, but it had. Originally, he had simply admired her intelligence. Janeway had kept not only her ship and crew from the military's grasp but also withheld the location and nature of the rift. Best of all, she had defied the general…and lived to tell of it. His father was gone, no longer a threat. Gerros had come out of the whole sordid enterprise without so much as a scratch to his political reputation. And she was helping him to convince the people that full-scale genocide could no longer be the focus of their identity. He had a chance to begin to promote the grandness of using the Oncaveat to strengthen the weakening Jehnz-yin bloodlines, ensuring the future of his magnificent people...and potentially, of course, the ability to one day open a rift to those lush planes the Unani denied his people access to. Of _course_ he had appreciated Janeway for all of those reasons. And so he hadn't noticed the change in his admiration, at first.

He found he understood her, that they had common ground in the suffering his father had inflicted upon them both. She, like him before her, had nearly been broken down under Garan's abject cruelty, had come to him wounded, not just physically but mentally. However, unlike most of the general's victims, political or otherwise, Janeway refused to _stay_ that way. She, like Gerros, would not concede ultimate defeat to his father. Something in her very nature would not allow it.

Observing her on the monitor while she pushed herself to recovery ahead of schedule, and without the pain medications his physicians had pressed on her at his request, had annoyed and intrigued him. Spending time in her company, getting to know the deviousness of her mind, the strength of will she possessed by the way she pushed for concessions from him while she wrangled tours of the palace and grounds without him noticing until after the agreement had been made…all of it had made him genuinely like her. Watching the crowds react to her this past week, seeing them come alive with obvious adoration for the figure they were being led to believe would be their ultimate savior, he had perhaps begun to come under a bit of his own spell. He found his eyes drawn to her when she was in the room, found himself taking more time away from the running of the empire, content to sit at the monitor for increasing periods of time simply to watch her during the day. To him, Janeway was a fascinating creature, one that grew more compelling as she returned to a state of relative health.

His advisors noticed his growing admiration. And those who knew the truth of the woman's lowly origins were appalled. In the back of his mind, he noted their poorly concealed disdain, and he didn't care in the slightest. _Let them growl_, he thought to himself absently. His plan was already beginning to have real results; she was winning over the people with her performances (with the help of the tale he spun around the events of her arrival). Over the course of the past week especially, due to his nightly events and the careful message he'd crafted for her to read, nearly twenty-five hundred Oncaveat slaves had been surrendered to the government from prominent Jehnz-yin households. Soon, they would be collected and brought to the facility he'd engineered years ago, when his dream had first been conceived to use the Oncaveat to secure the future of his own people. Once the unsuitable were sorted out, he'd need three times that amount, he estimated, to set his plans in motion. And then he would select the next message for Janeway's performances, calling an official halt to the military campaign against those remaining few Oncaveat not yet enslaved. He needed what was left of them, also…all that he could find alive.

He hadn't trusted Janeway's reaction to his plan. Though she routinely asked him about his ultimate goal, seeming to sense he had one in mind, he had yet to tell her what it was. She'd been easy to put off, fortunately, for he hadn't been ready to tell her. In truth, he'd yet to tell anyone the complete plan, but he wasn't answerable to anyone, was he?

He'd spent a great deal of time attempting to show her that he was not his father. That he appreciated her military prowess and her quick wit. That he was not incensed by her occasional demonstrations of spirit… She still had yet to fully accept his complete separation of identity from his father. He saw it in the uncharacteristic hesitation she demonstrated in his presence. Without the first officer next to her, she was slower to contradict him, more likely to defer to his decision making…and only because she found it difficult to stomach his presence, he knew, when she had images and thoughts of his father flashing back to her due to their close physical resemblance.

He couldn't say why that bothered him so much, really, except that Gerros had always hated being confused with Garan. The chancellor was far more intelligent, less gratuitously aggressive, and certainly less loathsome. The two were not even in the same category as far as he was concerned. And yet he'd lived much of his life under the shadow of his brutish, domineering father. He'd been elected partially as a testament to the people's love for his father, a fact that Garan had never let him forget while he lived. Even though it was Gerros who held the record for most successful raids on remaining Oncaveat settlements, Garan continued to hold the top card of notoriety, valued for his ruthless efficiency in purging those Oncaveat his troupes collected.

But Gerros was so much more. And soon, he would prove that to everyone, once and for all, and Janeway was the key to that, also.

It would _not_ be done if she allied with her first officer in this manner.

It really was a most unfortunate development, for many reasons. Gerros had come to accept the unfortunate, unanticipated truth that she would upstage him in any public arena in which he placed her. The role he'd painted for her as semi-goddess had seen to that. When he appeared at her side, he was viewed merely as her host, unattached to her in the public's eye and largely ignored whenever she was in the room, despite the gestures of friendship he'd persuaded her to participate in for the crowds. He'd already come to the conclusion that to properly benefit from her image, he needed to tie himself to her more obviously.

But she was still reluctant to stomach his presence, let alone his personal attentions. He couldn't even compliment her appearance without seeing her discomfort at his scrutiny. And as she had angered him with this specific continued reluctance, and most especially with this latest defiance, he decided that, one last time, he might just be forced to use his father's image to help further his own agenda. He would use that one weakness against her, for she would come around to his way of thinking, whether she liked the prospect or not.

Having made it, Gerros was satisfied with this new conclusion regarding Janeway; he always felt better after coming to some sort of a decision, whether it was his preferred resolution or not.

Now he had one more decision to make…well…two, as Shasta Accor was still alive and still being shielded within Janeway's chambers at the human's insistence. But he was far more concerned for the human male at the moment than he was with the woman who had given himself, the Jehnz-yin chancellor, life well over thirty cycles ago. The male stood in the way of the chancellor's immediate plans, while the Oncaveat woman was merely an uncomfortable annoyance. He would deal with her later, once he had Janeway more firmly in hand.

So…what to do with the human called Chakotay? Calmer now that the offending image no longer displayed on the screen, the chancellor weighed his options, but he'd already decided, in his heart of hearts. Allowing him to linger by her side had been a mistake. The man had just become more trouble than he was worth, in Xi's estimation. It was time to remove the commander from the picture entirely.

But it would have to be done in a way that brought no suspicion upon himself, or he'd risk stoking Janeway's resistance rather than binding her closer to him. Fortunately, in politics, subtle intrigues were always present. Gerros was quite used to making problems disappear and under innocuous-looking circumstances. It took him hardly any reflection at all to come up with a satisfying solution. A small smile pulled at the corners of his wide, thin lips.

He summoned his aide.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

He'd never kept her waiting before.

Doctor Nyra Benn waited in the chancellor's reception chambers for the chancellor to free up the time to be able to see her. And waited. And waited. And…

She was livid. Yesterday, he'd seen her immediately. Of course yesterday, her visit was to update him on Janeway's physical progress. Needlessly, to the physician's way of thinking. There'd been nothing new to report and wouldn't be, not for months, if ever. The woman had a limp. She would always have it. The scars, too. She didn't take particularly well to Jehnz-yin food; most species didn't. The culprit was a particularly complex protein sequence unique to the farm-raised animals of Ghanza Prime, like those raised on the chancellor's estates and other government institutions. It was in most foods here, and unless the woman learned to avoid those foods, her stomach would be queasy. Nyra didn't see any particular reason to provide the humans with a list of all the foods that contained the protein: she had more important things to do. At any rate, it was hardly cause for anyone's concern, let alone worth the attention of the single most powerful man in the Jehnz-yin Empire. Yet all of this mundane, monotonous detail, Gerros seemed to have hours to devote to discussing.

Today, she simply wanted to speak with him. She missed him. In the two months since Janeway had been with them, they'd not had a single opportunity to speak in anything other than an official capacity. She was still burning over the reprimand he'd given her in front of the aliens, yet knowing his distaste for mixing business with pleasure, she'd not brought up the subject.

She would today. It had been insulting, shocking even. He'd never spoken to his personal physician with anything like that level of disrespect before. She'd heard him speak to others like that, including her brother and, once or twice, her father. But never had Gerros spoken to her that way. In fact, Nyra had been the chancellor's favorite companion before…

_Janeway_. Her lip curled in disgust at the thought of the frail woman who would be the honor of yet another state banquet this evening. If she didn't know it would get her killed, the doctor would seriously have considered "accidentally" spiking some of the enzyme supplements they were still using to promote the woman's slowly-healing liver with something…unpleasant. Preferably with something unpleasantly fatal.

Nyra had been reluctant to admit it to herself at first, but she'd see the signs from the moment Gerros had called her into his rooms two months ago and stressed the importance of the woman's survival. She'd seen that look in his eye as his gaze had fallen on the frozen image of the human woman. She'd known then, if she was truly honest. She just hadn't wanted to believe…

She loathed the captain with every molecule of her being, had from the moment the woman had arrived, hardly stabilized by the inferior doctors he'd sent to see to her on the accursed guard ship that had carried her here. She'd been in horrible shape. It was thanks to Nyra that the woman was alive at all. At least at first, Gerros been duly grateful.

That gratitude had certainly disappeared. He seemed to have forgotten Nyra the woman's existence, seemed to have time and interest for only her professional characteristics. And that was unacceptable, for so many reasons, not least of which was that he'd given his pledge to make her his life mate over a year ago. He had done this before with many women he'd soon lost interest in, true. But never before had any one woman held his attention as long as Nyra had. Even her father, who rarely bothered with his half-breed if accomplished daughter, had taken notice of the fact and congratulated her on her cunning capture of the elusive chancellor's affections. There had been no official announcement yet, but it was common knowledge that the chancellor felt much more for his personal physician than simple professional admiration. Though Nyra was proud and beautiful and intelligent as the others had been before her, she had the one edge the others had been lacking: she and Gerros were friends, true companions. They'd known each other since they'd been children, after all; her father was the late General Xi's successor. She and Gerros had grown up together, and she knew him better than he knew himself.

She glanced at the magnificent time piece adorning the far wall of the waiting room. She'd been told by the chancellor's secretary that he'd see her shortly. That was three hours ago. Her brother had arrived, obviously summoned in the middle of preparation for the upcoming banquet as he'd been half dressed and out of breath. He'd spared her a guarded, pitying glance as he'd rushed by her and into the chancellor's chambers. She hated it. It was another sign of that which she'd been fighting not to accept…

Her brother, too, was worried. The chancellor's focus had become increasingly fixated on the human woman he was using to rally the people behind his never-ceasing efforts to further his strange cause. He was watching her often now, and that was another horrid sign. Nyra remembered that, not long ago, it had been she that Gerros had watched for hours at a time while she worked in the resplendent office he'd provided her with upon retaining her services. She wasn't supposed to know it, of course, but her brother had told her in a burst of excitement the day the imager had been installed in her office. Of course he'd been excited, Nyra thought with some bitterness now. If his sister became the chancellor's mate, Ellizas Benn would be able to rise above the respected position of personal aide to something even greater.

She'd expected to become the most powerful woman in the Jehnz-yin Empire. In part, she already was. She was privy to the chancellor's counsel, but more importantly, to her father's, now that he saw his daughter as a means of personal advancement, of course. And her father was Xi's successor. Though he hadn't been second in command, he was the highest ranking survivor of the human woman's devastating attack on Osalik. As a result, Nyra had access to information that no other would have, save her brother, and generally, she imparted information either way to her own benefit. She skillfully played all three men off each other and had from the beginning, from even before her father's rise to power within the devastated miltary. In part, it was what had allowed her to capture and keep Gerros's attention: he admired intelligence in a companion. He just had that unmistakably common male trait of underestimating hers because she was a woman. It had only enabled her to insinuate herself closer to him without his even guessing at her motives most times.

She did love him. Strange as he was, unorthodox as he was known for being, she couldn't help but love him, faults and all – and he had many faults, his fondness for (and temporary blindness to the less admirable traits of) women among them…

The doors opened again, revealing her brother. He approached the secretary's desk at the far end of the hall. Nyra kept her eyes downcast as though focused on something else, but she watched attentively as the two men discussed something in hushed tones. A moment later, the young serving girl who attended to the humans appeared and was escorted to the chancellor's doors. In shock, the physician watched as the doors opened once more and Gerros let the girl in personally. As he did so, his eyes swept the hall and unmistakably landed on Nyra sitting in the hall.

He averted his eyes and shut the door without a word. She felt the resounding clicks of the automatic bolts securing the door like stakes being driven into her hearts.

"He said to tell you he apologizes for not being able to see you today and that he'll make time for you later on, when his schedule isn't so full."

It was the final blow, a last stake pounded through her wounded hearts. Nyra raised burning eyes to Ellizas, who had sidled up to her while her focus had been on the chancellor's brief emergence from his chambers. Her brother was startled at the level of venom he saw reflecting in her normally cool gray eyes.

"I need to speak with you. Alone," she added with a glance at the old gossip of a secretary seated not too far away from them, watching with keen interest the exchange between brother and sister.

Ellizas blanched. "I can't. The banquet is scheduled for–"

"_Now_."

He swallowed at the tone of his sister's voice, taken aback as that intense look in her eye redoubled. His junior by several cycles, he was generally amazed at the way "little" Nyra had always been the dominant one of all his siblings, including him. He might have been the only fully Jehn-yin offspring to be produced by his father, but Ellizas had long suspected that it was Nyra who had inherited the bulk of their father's domineering traits. "All right," he finally consented with a grimace and a harried look at the time piece on the far wall. "Follow me."

Nyra rose, casting a contemptuous glance at the disappointed-looking secretary as they marched past him to somewhere that they knew they would not be overheard, determination in her newly-decided-upon course of action giving purpose to her steps. She would bring her brother around in short order, and together, the two of them would solve this problem for the chancellor's own good, before he made even more of a fool out of himself – and Nyra – than he already had. The solution was simple, really, and Ellizas would be made to see that if he didn't already.

Janeway had to go.

* * *


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one. They're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

Chapter Thirty

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

"What does the military plan to do about the problem, Father?"

"The woman will die. No one will be able to claim her a goddess when she's lying in a trail of her own innards, will they?"

The woman's face positively glowed at this gruesome picture, but the man beside her looked dubious as they both regarded the aging man on the small view screen on the polished desk in front of them.

"And the chancellor?" the younger man asked of the older man onscreen. "You know how he feels about Janeway. What will you tell him when he demands to know why you dared take such an action upon yourself?"

"We will replace him." The words were uttered without reflection, with complete lack of concern. "He will go the same way as the woman. Easier that way," the old man grunted with a feral sneer.

"No, Father, you can't do that," Nyra objected, quite calm-sounding to both men's ears as her brother turned to look at her. "You won't be able to."

"Won't be able to? Or _you_ don't _want_ me to?" the new first general sneered. "I'm surprised at you, Nyra. I thought you'd be happy with my decision. I've heard all about his new _preoccupation_. Seems you've finally been jilted at last, my girl. It must be humiliating to have it be for the likes of a lesser like the Janeway woman."

Nyra only smiled sweetly, showing no outward indication of her gritted teeth or the way her neatly trimmed claws dug into the palms of her finely manicured hands. "Those reports are the exaggerated musings of bored old men with too little real responsibility to occupy their time. I'm surprised at you for listening to them. Your spies used to be the best in the government. And you should know that your own position has always been strengthened by my closeness to the chancellor. I'm surprised at _you_ for having conveniently forgotten that fact, especially in light of the military's current, weakened status." She ignored the indignant expression on her father's face, continuing on before he could speak, "And I do mean that you _can't_ get rid of him. Not with the support of the people he has gathered behind his cause. They'd have your head on a platter – first general or not."

"No," Ellizas broke in before his father could respond to his sister's claims. He'd seen the darkening expression on his father's face, and he was so used to breaking up the verbal sparring between them that he usually did it without thought by now. "She's right. It won't be possible to eliminate Xi. He has far too much public support at the moment." His hands twisted nervously as he pondered the problem, much to the annoyance of his sibling and his father. Both sneered at him while he pondered their situation, and both rolled their eyes at the way he jumped at every sound outside the doors of the darkened study. He didn't seem to notice their open scorn as he continued, "And if we can't take care of him, then we also cannot risk being linked to murdering the woman. His vengeance would be…unpleasant, to say the least."

"Xi couldn't touch me," Rimmaz Benn declared proudly. "He wouldn't dare. Why, if he tried–"

"What, Father?" Nyra snarled, snapping over him as she lost her patience entirely. "What do you imagine would happen if he ordered your unit destroyed by the guard?"

Ellizas blanched at the look leveled at his sister through the screen.

"The people would never let him," Rimmaz hissed indignantly. "They'd–"

"_The_ _people_ are as likely to care about your death as they did about their famous General Xi's. Wake up, Father. Times are changing. Your precious military is decimated. You've lost the love of the people, and without it, the chances of rebuilding are next to nothing. _Unless_ you have the chancellor's support."

"Not if we can locate the woman's ship," Rimmaz countered, opting to ignore the weight of the charges his daughter leveled against his prized institution, not deigning them worthy of acknowledgment. "If we find the vessel, we'll have all of its technology at our–"

"The ship is gone. They left her for dead months ago," the female physician snapped.

"No. You're wrong, Nyra. It's not gone yet."

Silence descended on the heels of the quietly interjected statement as all eyes turned to Ellizas, who flushed a furious color at the sudden scrutiny.

"What do you mean…it isn't gone?" his sister finally hissed.

"I meant…it isn't…gone," Ellizas spluttered, his eyes seeming rooted to the floor. "Not yet."

"Have you gone even dafter since the last time we spoke, boy? What are you talking about? We've searched high and low for that vessel…"

"With your remaining three ships, you mean?" Nyra scoffed.

She seemed immune to the blistering glower leveled at her through the screen as Ellizas continued in a small voice, "The military's strength was always in its numbers, Father. You might have had a chance of locating them with comprehensive sweeps of the region, but without the sizeable fleets you had before, Voyager's systems are too refined for your remaining warships sensors."

"Then how the devil would _you_ know where it is?"

The nervous glance this time was darted to his sister. "I…was forbidden to mention it. Even to you, Nyra." The apology did nothing to dim the venom in her eyes, so he turned his gaze back to the screen. "He knows where the ship is. He didn't want it known that he knew or that it was still in the sector."

Because he didn't want the woman escaping back to it, Nyra realized. Her hatred for the human woman only redoubled at the revelation. Despite her bitterness, she _was_ grateful her brother had the tact not to spell it out aloud in front of their critical father, thereby sparing her the humiliation of confirming the chancellor's abhorrently unnatural interest in Janeway.

"The chancellor has had the guard keeping an eye on the human ship. Their tracking systems are more refined." The words were a further apologetic confession as Ellizas continued to avoid his sister's burning gaze.

"Keeping an eye…? He knows where it is? And he hasn't _taken the vessel_?" Rimmaz threw his clawed hands up in disbelief. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. How can we have a chancellor that is too afraid of battle to–"

"What are you proposing, Ellizas?" Nyra coolly cut off her father, her eyes narrowing slyly as she focused on her brother's face. "I can see you have some idea of how to fix our problem."

Ellizas nodded slowly.

"Spit it out, Brother."

"It's dangerous," he cautioned. "And I warn you, neither one of you is going to like it, but it's the only sensible solution I can fathom to our mutual…problem. The woman must go, and none of us can appear to have been involved with her removal."

Rimmaz was silent, as was Nyra. The new first general's eyes glittered with affronted malice for a moment before he uttered a deep sigh, having resigned himself to the limits of his current abilities in the matter. Later, when the fleet was back up to full power, he would assert his position. For now, distasteful as it was, he had little choice but to hear his son out. "Go on, then," he gritted through clenched teeth. "Let's hear your genius plan."

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

She hadn't spoken to Yurros. For some reason, she'd been cut off from him, hadn't been able to establish any sort of contact with her bondmate since they'd left the rift. It had never happened before; in twenty years, she'd never been unable to contact him.

At first, the sole concern had been for Kathryn and her recovery. She'd been in such critical shape aboard the chancellor's ship before they'd hauled her away from the humans and locked her up in a small empty crew quarters. And while she worried for the human woman, Shasta had had her own safety to consider. She'd had no reason to expect to be left unharmed at the hands of any Jehnz-yi. The first week or so, she'd endured her solitary captivity, during which she was ignored by her jailors, with mounting dread. Waiting for the moment in which the hellish torture she remembered so well would commence. Then, as days had passed without word of either human or harassment at her captors' hands, she'd grown increasingly concerned with the lack of response from Yurros. Shortly afterward, of course, there had been the life-altering reveal of the chancellor's true origins, and that had taken center stage in her mind for a long while. But now, as she waited for the humans to return from the evening banquet, which she had once more declined to attend, the complete lack of contact had begun to weigh increasingly on her mind.

Why couldn't she contact him? There was no reason she should continually reach out to him only to meet with silence. No good reason she could think of that _he_ hadn't contacted _her_ yet. What was going on?

He wasn't dead. She hadn't felt the burning, soul-tearing pain she'd experienced at the death of her father and mother at Garan Xi's hands so many years ago. She knew the kind of pain she'd have felt at being severed from Yurros that way couldn't have been overlooked, no matter how chaotic her surroundings at the time. He'd lived, which meant there was a good chance he'd made it back to the Voyager's shuttle in time. Shasta knew it would be immensely reassuring to the humans to know that their vessel was safe and hopefully well out of Jehnz-yin territory by now, and she wished she could tell them it was so. She couldn't.

The only thing she could assume was that she'd been too overwrought with the entire situation to be able to form the contact properly, from their capture up through the present moment. But she knew that wasn't it.

The inability to contact Yurros had Senator Accor even more distraught than she'd otherwise have been to find herself stuck on the Jehnz-yin home world, entirely cut off from the people she'd dedicated her life to serving and yet had betrayed more thoroughly than she'd even imagined possible. "Accident" and "couldn't have known" weren't words that were applicable to this situation. Thousands had died as a direct result of her ignorance. Of her negligence. That was a burden she would bear forever, now. She didn't know if she could handle it.

The two humans had done their level best to try and convince her they understood, that this wasn't her fault, but they had their own concerns, namely with trying to arrange a way for them all off this planet, and though she pretended to accept their comfort for their sake, Shasta knew better. That it had never occurred to her that the child she'd had had survived, after all this time, was unforgiveable. Not once in thirty years had it occurred to her as a possibility. Never one time during all the rifts she'd either attended or had knowledge of had she noticed something odd about the links she'd participated in. She was the only one that could have, and she should have, by any known rule of bonds. It had been up to her to sense that something was awry in those links. That there was another presence within her own mind…

She'd never been so conflicted in all of years of life. How could she not have known? How could she have been so completely oblivious to her own role in her peoples' destruction? If she had known, could she have stopped him from using her to locate their facilitators? Just how strong a telepath was he? Could he open a link with her at will or only when she was part of another connection? Just how much did he know about her life? Had he been spying on her all this time?

These questions and thousands of others preyed on her mind with increasing frequency. So did the knowledge that she had a son. A _son_. She hadn't even known the sex of the child she hadn't wanted yet had had no choice in conceiving. Hadn't been able to come to terms with how she felt about it at all before Xi had ripped the child from her after leaving her locked in a sparse room alone to bear it. She'd assumed the child had died shortly after being taken from her, as all Oncaveat newborns separated from their mothers did, and against the strange, schizophrenic mix of relief and grief, she had shut the door on that chapter of her life along with all the rest of her experience.

That door had been reopened, in a big way. And as for how she felt about him now…

He didn't seem inclined to see her or even anxious to meet her. Kathryn had told her that the chancellor had seemed relieved to not have encountered her, if anything. He refused to discuss her. Shasta wondered how he felt about her. Did he harbor any good feeling for her at all? Did she want him to? Or did he resent her for his origins, or even for having unknowingly abandoned him to his father's care when she'd made her unlikely escape all those years ago?

He looked like his father, or so Chakotay had gently informed her the one time she'd mustered the courage to ask. How far did that resemblance go? And was he anything like her, also – anything at all? How could he be, when he had been the one to use the connection between them in order to slaughter thousands of what were, technically, his own people?

But then, as she'd assured herself, there was the chance – even a good chance – that the young chancellor had been coerced into doing it. If Xi had learned about the boy's remarkable, unheard of abilities, there was no doubt in Shasta's mind the general would have sprung at the opportunity to use it to his advantage. He could easily have forced his son to cooperate with his twisted objectives.

She knew Gerros claimed to want to put a stop to the slaughtering of her people. Their people. What she did not know was whether or not that claim was genuine.

She wanted so desperately to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, something of her horrendous experience, one aspect of her unforgiveable mistake might bring out some good after all the suffering. It had become her one hope, that. And she found she was almost afraid to have that hope dashed now…

But she had to know, couldn't take the chance of being fooled again, especially by her own wishful thinking. She didn't think herself strong enough to meet him face to face, not yet, but with the hours of silence stretching out in front of her as the banquet began, the senator decided it was well past time she set aside her personal concerns and fears. For there was one way, she was pretty sure, that she could be certain of the chancellor's benevolent intentions. It had worked one way, after all. By all known laws and rules, it should work the other way, as well.

Her stomachs rumbled, the only thing that reminded her to eat anymore; she certainly had no appetite otherwise. As she crossed the room Janeway shared with Chakotay, she stopped at the by now stale tray of that morning's pastries. She selected from among the last of the vegetarian selections on the plate, choosing the very last of the green pastries with a small smile, knowing the commander had left it for her intentionally. He never took the last one. They both liked the light flavor of leafy green filling better than most of the others, though the captain couldn't stand this particular flavor; she preferred the heartier, more fibrous vegetarian fillings.

The senator shook herself out of her pointless musings. She absently bit into the pastry, taking the overly chewy texture in stride as she headed for her bedroom and shut the door, preparing herself for the grueling effort of a long meditative session.

She had to know.

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

Kathryn stared at her plate. It was still full of mostly uneaten fare. Her stomach flip-flopped treacherously at the little she had consumed just as a servant bumped her arm leaning over to offer the final course. She knew that, despite the desserts being passed around now, which she'd be expected to at least sample, she couldn't risk any more of the rich alien food. Automatically, she allowed her plate to be switched out anyway, staring blankly at the thick, towering concoction of "delicacies" with distrust as they were set in front of her. Her thoughts were less on her queasiness, however, than they were on the man seated about a dozen places down from her, whom she hadn't caught sight of for at least an hour now.

She still felt the touch of his mouth to her lips, gentle at first and then increasingly urgent, filled with hunger and longing, still felt the thrill of his hands threading through her hair. The moments were framed clearly in her memory, seared into her skin, her soul. It was the first completely wonderful sensation Kathryn could remember experiencing in so long, and she remembered thinking she didn't want that feeling to end. She'd finally pulled back from him, her eyes questioning his intentions, his desires. For a long, intense moment, she'd thought they'd been going to carry through with the implied culmination of the heat they'd been building, sharing between them, had thought with a tremor of terrified excitement that what they did in the next few moments could be the point from which there would be no return between them, for better or for worse. She'd felt ready to take that risk, for the first time, had been intent upon losing herself in the unthinking oblivion he offered.

But he'd stopped himself, had pulled back after a long minute of looking deeply into her eyes. Taking it as the rejection she'd inherently feared, disappointment had flooded every fiber of her being, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

"_I understand, Chakotay," she whispered solemnly, turning away with the dual intention of leaving him and taking a moment to compose her thoughts. "And I'm sorry if I misread–"_

"_No. I don't think you do understand, Kathryn." She felt his grip tighten slightly as she was turned back to face him. "Look at me, please." _

_She took an inordinately long few seconds to oblige, worried about what she'd see on his face and most especially not wanting to see pity or anything else she expected would be there. But finally, she looked up at him, and then the raw, naked concern for her was nearly overwhelming in those dark orbs of his. _

"_Please understand that I couldn't live with myself if we did this now, like this."_

_Her brow furrowed as she stared at him, her hands coming to rest on his chest. "If we did this like _what_, exactly? What are you talking about?"_

"_We'd be doing this for all the wrong reasons. You'd be doing it to prove something, whether to yourself or to me. And I'd be doing it…because I couldn't help letting you."_

_She shook her head. "You're not making any sense. If we did this, it would be because we _wanted_ to. If you don't want to…it's all right. I told you, I understand."_

_His deep, frustrated sigh breathed through her, giving her pause while he continued to hold her close with his hands on her shoulders. "Oh, believe me, Kathryn, I do want…this." He swallowed with effort, his voice sounding strained as he willed her to understand his reasoning. "But I want it with _you_. And I can't until I'm sure that you're yourself again._

_Ah. He was being noble. Concerned for her. That was a concept she understood, even if she wanted to hit him over the head with something hard for it. _

"_I _am_ myself, Chakotay," she asserted automatically. "I'm perfectly fine now–"_

"_No, you're not." He wasn't hearing it. "I know you want to believe you are, but you're not. I'll know when you're yourself."_

"_How? How will you know when I'm 'myself'?" she challenged, definitely irate at the presumption that he knew whether or not she was completely mentally and emotionally recovered better than she did. "Isn't that for me to decide?" _

And, damn, was habit a bitch to break, because the word "commander" had been sharp on her tongue, wanting to roll right off of it, but it wouldn't have worked in that situation. Not anymore, with Voyager so likely far away from them. Getting back to the ship was a fantasy now, at best, and she'd bitten back on the pointed addition with no great ease.

_He gave her a slightly sad smile, his right hand tucking back the hair that had fallen over the left side of her face again with the motion of turning so abruptly away from him. She hated herself for the traitorous tingles of electric coursing through her at the simple feathered touch alone, but that didn't lessen their intensity._

"_I'll know by the light that should be shining in your eyes right now but that isn't. And if you're honest with yourself, you'll admit you aren't ready. But when you are…if you still want…I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere." With a final wistful smile, he disentangled himself from her, leaving her standing alone in the bathroom, staring after him. _

He'd been correct, she decided, as she paid particular attention to her train of thought and reactions this evening. The quaint wording he'd used aside... Damn him, he'd been right.

She still couldn't shake the instinctive nervousness around Chancellor Xi. She'd been denying it, to herself most of all, but it was true. His very presence made something within her quail, and that was _not_ her. Kathryn Janeway did not jump at a raised voice, did not shiver apprehensively at sudden movement or go still with trepidation at a certain tone or glint in anyone's eye. But she did with Gerros whenever he accidentally reminded her of the late general, which was often. Simply being in such close proximity to him, having to hear his voice and smell the scent of him turned her stomach and made her flesh crawl. It was an effort at these dinners to summon even the mask of control and non-intimidation.

And her reaction to him was coloring everything else…her recovery, her ability to concentrate on finding a way out of here, her ability to put her recent experiences into perspective and to move on from them. She'd written off the physical reactions as exhaustion, as residual side effects from the toll that had been taken on her body. The disturbing dreams that often turned into recurring nightmares she'd dismissed as lingering stress, but again, she'd been in denial. Because on some level, she had to admit to herself now, some crucial, unseen part of her was still tethered to those posts on that moon, waiting for the next hellish blow she couldn't deflect, the next insidious torture she had no way to defend against. Somehow, over the course of just twelve hours, the general had succeeded in reconditioning her, at least to some degree. She was still stuck in reactive mode. The full realization was a bitter pill to swallow.

And Chakotay saw it, knew what she hadn't been able, or willing, to admit to herself. He'd seen that her willingness to take a step that hadn't been taken before between them had had less to do with what it should have in that moment, and more to do with avoiding reality and denying that she still had a ways to go mentally. That wasn't what she ultimately wanted, wasn't fair to either one of them, and he had been right to stop her. To stop himself.

She almost craned her neck around to try and get another glimpse at him but forced the urge back before she did it. It was highly discouraged, and she didn't want to call any more attention to herself than her presence alone inspired.

Damn, how she hated it when he was right. The problem was that she simply had no idea what to do to _change_ it. Her responses were automatic, often occurring well before she'd even had a chance to consciously think about it. She could feel the chancellor's gaze on her, though his eyes were hooded, seemingly downcast, and she fought the compulsion to cover her shoulders with the cape draped over the chair behind her. That, too, was a telling indication.

They had to get out of here.

She missed her ship. She missed Tuvok and Harry, Seven and Tom, B'Elanna, Chell, Wildman, Andrews…all of them. The doctor. Neelix. She wondered how he was doing and hoped the doctor had managed to repair the damage he'd suffered. As she always did, she said a silent prayer to anyone who happened to be listening that they were all well and that they would make it home safely without them.

She missed the ship just as keenly as she missed the people. Funny how that assemblage of bulkheads and hardware had become such an extension of her in so relatively short a period of time. She missed her quarters, her haven and comfort. She missed the ready room, her sanctuary and base of operations, and most especially, she missed the bridge. She also missed the engines that had so often given more than they should have just when she'd needed them to, saving them from one last peril time and time again under B'Elanna's knowledgeable hand. She longed to stroll those smooth, gleaming decks, most of which she knew every single inch of... Well. The last time she'd seen them, they hadn't exactly been gleaming: the Jehnz-yin military had seen to that. But they'd been filthy and littered with debris before and always came out sparkling again when the battle was over and the dead had been counted and grieved. She had no doubt that they would shine again under Tuvok's diligent direction. Absently, she wondered what he would do with her lucky teacup. Would he keep it for sentimental reasons, or would it be put into storage along with the rest of her things?

She almost laughed aloud at the idea of Tuvok holding on to any physical object out of any less than perfectly logical motivations. She could hear his rebuke now as if he was sitting right in front of her… The thought turned her from suppressing amusement to blinking back tears in the space of a single heartbeat, and she shook herself out of her train of thought immediately, chastising herself for letting her mind wander.

Kathryn had come to accept the probability that they weren't going to see the ship again. Voyager hadn't been sighted in long weeks, over two months; a timely rescue wasn't going to be forthcoming. There was the slight chance that they could eventually catch up with them. Of course they'd need to get their hands on a ship with warp drive capability first. Whether or not that was going to be feasible remained to be seen. Either way, neither she nor Chakotay was content to live out the remainder of their days on this planet, in this culture, under Gerros Xi's control. And that left them with what to do now.

She desperately wanted to believe that the chancellor's intentions were good regarding the Oncaveat, regarding his own people, and that he was not like his father. However, she had yet to uncover his true motives behind calling a halt to the centuries-long feud between the two races, and it bothered her that she'd been unable to press him the way she normally would have if he'd been anyone else.

She was disgusted with herself at the realization of that, too. She should have been pressing him harder from the very beginning. There was no excuse for her continued participation in this elaborate show without knowing for certain what his end result would be. She'd allowed him to table the full discussion for far too long now.

She would not be put off any longer by promises that everything would be explained to her as soon as she was fully recovered.

Tonight, she decided. Tonight she would direct the conversation to the questions she needed answers to. He would answer her questions about his ultimate agenda, and she would force the chancellor to tell her when he planned on letting them go. He had given his word that he would do so when his aims were achieved, but so far, he hadn't said when that would be. He would tell her tonight. And if his answers were unsatisfactory, they would have to step up their attempts to formulate a way off the planet, bum leg, constant guarding, and limited access to the grounds be damned…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a particularly tentative voice speaking up across the table.

"Chancellor, we have yet to discuss the severe damage to coastal regions from the floods on Ghanza Two."

That was the planet Voyager's initial, fleeting scans had reported as uninhabited, she'd learned this week. The sensors had been inaccurate in that regard, but then Harry had still been working on repairing them at the time. Apparently, the planet whose moon Osalik's destruction had devastated was home to several thousand Jehnz-yin who were working to make the planet inhabitable.

"You told me the affected regions were mostly uninhabited."

Gerros's rough voice sent the usual chills down her spine, and her stomach heaved yet again. Noticing her body's reaction, Janeway gritted her teeth in annoyance. Her spine locked into a rigid line as she wrestled with herself.

"They were," the relatively young voice replied. "However, we still lost hundreds in the initial tidal waves. And there have been thousands more displaced by the damage where the waves swept over land. And the lessening of the strength of the tides is projected to have a profound effect on coastal farming for years to come until we can effectively compensate."

She barely had time to lament the loss of life, loss of life she had almost facilitated. A growl sounded to her immediate right, and Kathryn once again noted the quickening of her heartbeat as Gerros finally deigned to look across the table at the reporting official. "You told me you had a handle on this problem, Micco. Are you telling me now that you were mistaken?"

With effort, she forced her hand not to shake as she took a steadying sip of the light juice she opted to drink instead of the customary and noxious wine most of the other officials drank at the banquets. Gratefully, she felt her stomach settle under the juice's calming influence.

The insistent young minister stammered a bit under his master's glower. "N–no, Excellency. Of course not. I can handle the settlers."

Several disgusted looks were shared by the others at the table close enough to hear the conversation, but the chancellor didn't appear to see them.

Xi nodded curtly, his large, knobby head bobbing in approval as he grunted, "Good." He lifted his recently refilled goblet to his dark lips, taking a deep drought of the spiced wine within before adding, "Then I trust you to see to the relocation and damage control. I have enough to worry about in placating the remainder of the army still on the unaffected regions of the moon. I can't be worrying about a few colonists on the planet, too. Why they don't ask their precious military for help in rebuilding is beyond me. They're mostly military families, anyway." He sighed disgustedly. "Be sure to keep the resettled in remote locations for the foreseeable future. No one is to relocate back to Ghanza Prime at the moment." At Micco's questioning glance, he pointed a clawed finger and sagely expanded, "It never pays to have disgruntled citizens close to the capital." Micco's expression only cleared by a fraction. Again, the chancellor seemed completely oblivious. "Now, have you received the latest reports of the surrendered Oncaveat house slaves here at home?"

Though her head was still bent over her plate, Janeway's eyes flickered across the table as Gerros effectively tabled the other conversation. She caught the disapproving sneers of several of the officials that the chancellor missed, many of which were directed at her…as though it was her fault he had no interest in the running of his empire that didn't have to do with the Oncaveat. She was used to those looks, however, and simply kept her focus mostly on her plate for the remainder of the evening, biding her time until the end of the trying night when she could turn the conversation to the topics that were long overdue to be addressed.

She would have those answers before she left this room, whether Chancellor Xi liked it or not, she vowed silently to herself.

She just hoped the answers were ones she wanted to hear. Otherwise, they'd have a whole new set of problems on their hands.

* * *

**Part IV**

* * *

If women had always been his weakness, then Kathryn Janeway was his Achilles heel.

Chakotay stared at his plate, damning himself for his lapse in control. It had taken everything he had to turn her down, but he'd had to. He never should have allowed things to go so far in the first place. Not when she hadn't fully recovered yet. Yes, she had feelings for him, had had them all along. Yes, a part of her may have wanted...he hoped _really_ wanted...what they'd been so close to doing. And yes, Gods knew he wanted her more than life itself, seemed to have lived and breathed for that moment in time.

Not like that. Not this soon, and not when he could still barely sleep through the night without being awakened by her dream-induced distress. Not when he was perpetually haunted by the circles under her eyes and the shadows that flickered through them with each simple glance at Gerros Xi. As much as he longed for that kind of connection with her, it couldn't be now. Not like this.

She still wasn't herself, and that left him the responsible party. If nothing else, as her friend, it was his duty to be sure she was making rational decisions, for the right reasons, and that would not have been one of them. It would have changed things between them irrevocably, and for that fundamental change in the deepest friendship they both had to be for the better, both of them would have to be ready. She wasn't. He knew her far too well to pretend otherwise, even if, for an agonizingly brief few seconds, he'd almost been able to fool himself into believing otherwise.

He hoped she wasn't too upset with him, that she understood his reasoning, and in the final moment before their escort had arrived to take them to the dreaded banquet hall, she's given him a small, encouraging smile and the reassuring squeeze of his hand, so she'd seemed to.

Then again, she was a good actress – too good, at times.

His eyes wanted to slide down to her, but he'd have to stand to see her or, at the very least, lean well back in his chair. He'd done that a few times already, but, considering that Kathryn was supposed to be telepathic, it was highly discouraged. If Kathryn (rather the goddess she was supposed to be) wanted to communicate with him, her supposed servant, she should not need visual contact. Or so they told him. Many times. He smothered a noise of disgust in the back of his throat. She hadn't gone anywhere, he knew. He'd have seen the resulting commotion if she had, but he still wanted to see her. These evenings drained the hell out of him, and he knew it was ten times worse for her. He pointedly ignored the periodic gazes he could see resting curiously on him from across the room by the other guests, the ones that generally gaped at Kathryn all evening. Many of them were gone already. Thankfully. He still knew that if he turned too far around, he'd be able to see the hideous footage of the infamous day that would live in his nightmares for the rest of his life. He didn't turn too far around and knew that, several places down from him, at least one other person was doing the same.

He wondered where the chancellor's aide, Ellizas, had been this evening. The past four dinners, the man had been the only one to pay him any attention at all. At first, he had done so gruffly, even reluctantly, but by last night, Chakotay had thought he'd been making some limited progress. And a good thing it was, too. Apart from their servant, Bimmah, who delivered their food for the day every morning, everyone else seemed to despise them. Mostly, he was ignored to the point of rudeness.

The more he learned about Jehnz-yin culture, the more the feeling was mutual. Not that he'd had the highest amount of respect for them before. But if he was to have a chance of getting Kathryn off this planet intact, he knew he would have to set his personal feelings in that regard aside. They needed an ally, and the chancellor's aide was the best one he could think of, aside from Gerros, himself. And he didn't trust Gerros as far as he could throw him. Not that he trusted any of the others much more than that…

It was as if the thought alone had summoned the man, and Xi's aide swept into the room via the discreet side entrance. Chakotay watched him approach the center of the table until he could no longer see him. To his surprise, however, the aide reappeared at Chakotay's end of the table with the chancellor, and then the two men stepped outside of the large banquet hall for a brief moment. When they returned to the room, Chakotay noted that while Ellizas looked uneasy, the chancellor had the widest of smiles on his face. He paused for a moment, smoothing his robes, and his gaze locked on Chakotay's. For an instant, the commander thought he detected a hint of a smirk flitting across those gargoylish features, and he tensed, but then Gerros took his seat, and Chakotay lost sight of him entirely.

"Commander, if I may have a word with you?"

Chakotay recognized the now-familiar voice in his ear as belonging to the aide but was surprised at the request. He turned to look at the man standing behind his chair and instantly regretted it as he couldn't help but be drawn to the huge viewer displaying an image he'd been trying to scrub permanently from his brain for a while now. Not for the first time, he was sickened by the callous showcasing of Kathryn's ordeal, and it colored his response beyond his control. "Can it wait?" he bit out.

Immediately, he regretted the terse reply. He was supposed to be trying to win the man over, not antagonizing him, he reminded himself with a grimace.

"I have news of your ship," the man offered simply, unperturbed by the sourness in Chakotay's tone and, in fact, seeming mostly concerned that he not be overheard by the others at the table.

Voyager. It was the first time the ship had been brought up by anyone other than him or Kathryn. Chakotay felt his insides flutter in anticipation and knew that Kathryn would want to hear whatever it was for herself. "The captain–"

"Cannot leave the banquet, which you know. This is, however, a matter of some urgency and I would prefer not to be overheard. Please come with me now."

A few mildly curious looks were tossed their way, but most of the remaining officials did little more than note the disturbance and turn back to their swiftly emptying plates. Giving a nod of acquiescence and setting down his napkin, Chakotay stood and dared a glance around the Jehnz-yin officials. He saw only the back of her head, but when he hesitated, mentioning that the evening was soon going to be drawing to a close, Ellizas was in his ear again, urging, "She will be escorted back to your rooms by the chancellor's entourage. He will not allow any harm to come to her."

No. Xi needed her too much for that, Chakotay had to admit. With a final glance over his shoulder toward the center of the table, Chakotay grudgingly allowed himself to be led out into the hall with only the vague sense of unease that usually flooded his awareness in this place nipping at the back of his consciousness.

* * *


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one. They're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: Thanks, Chesh, for the beta help in part one...which needed it ;)

Chapter Thirty-One

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Order and discipline were essential to the smooth functioning of a ship like Voyager. As such, they were two traits that Lieutenant-Commander Tuvok highly valued and strove to maintain. With the ship under the heavy influence of calm, structured order, the crew would excel in their duties: it was only logical.

Except, for some reason, that that did not appear to be the case at all. Now that the ship was once again in motion, albeit slow motion as they crept around the sensor ranges of the remaining Jehnz-yin warships, the crew had fallen into an obvious state of depression.

The deliberate stalling of crucial repairs he'd understood, had expected, and was resigned to enduring to a controlled degree. Because the crew had taken the appropriate measures to make their stalling unobvious, at least at first glance, he'd tolerated it.

Two weeks ago, they'd reached the limit of what he could responsibly tolerate, and in the end, it wasn't even his decision. Simple mathematics had dictated that Voyager's crew could no longer be indulged in their faithful vigil for their lost command team. Their resources had been too depleted to remain at a standstill any longer. With the added burden of their Oncaveat passengers, the drain on Voyager's energy reserves was nearly doubled. A tour of Engineering revealed the ship's engines to be up to the task, and Tuvok had been pleased to note that while she had most certainly stalled some aspects of the ship's many repairs, B'Elanna Torres was too good an officer to have done so without an eye for the ship's ability to move quickly when necessary. He'd given the order at the next senior staff meeting and had made it clear that there could be no more debate on the topic. While they hadn't argued his orders, the already quiet room had been smothered in heavy silence, and the staff had dispersed as though they were leading a funeral procession.

Psychologically, at least, they probably were.

Tuvok was in a difficult position. Replacing the captain was a daunting prospect. He was not so optimistic as to believe he would ever fully accomplish this feat, but in her absence, he was left to do the best he could to lead the crew of Voyager home. He had, as he'd noted before under similar circumstances, lost a valued friend in her, and her loss was felt quite keenly within him. There were any number of issues he would have given much to be able to seek her guidance on, the emotional state of the crew at the top of that extensive list.

On the whole, they operated like automatons. There was no laughter in the halls. No smiles were exchanged between crewmen. Most wore the same, perpetually flat expression with mouths drawn into a tight, straight line. And as much as Tuvok would ideally prefer the abnormal quiet, it was increasingly clear that most of the Voyager crew could not thrive in such an atmosphere. Performance levels had dropped off. No one was operating at less than acceptable efficiency levels, true, but the usual standards simply weren't being met. Less work was getting done on each shift rotation. Everyone did what was necessary, no more, no less. It was as if a sense of failure and futility had already taken hold of the ship.

He was worried for several individuals in particular. Neelix appeared to be in a state of complete denial. He'd resumed his duties with a vengeance, but that the Talaxian wasn't sleeping was common knowledge. He was rarely seen anywhere outside of the kitchen, and his obvious exhaustion was the talk of the crew. He was doing his best to remain outwardly cheerful, but with shattered nerves and an overall depressed demeanor, his efforts were maudlin at best and grotesque at worst. It seemed logical to infer that his recent ordeal was to blame for his difficulties, but Tuvok could do little besides ask the doctor to be especially vigilant. Harry's behavior, while not outwardly troublesome, had grown increasingly withdrawn, again most likely due to the same experience that had affected Neelix. Both of these individuals, generally crucial points on the interconnected thread of crew morale, were instead having a cascadingly negative effect, further tamping down whatever may have remained of good humor in the rest of the crew. And Seven of Nine had been the captain's personal project. She felt the captain's loss quite keenly, and someone would need to take over the role of advisor to her. Unfortunately, he was at a real loss as to who that individual should be. The doctor filled some of that gap, but he was obviously not the strong female role model a formulating young woman of Seven's emotional level required.

All of this would need to be addressed, and after particularly long shifts on the bridge, it left him with very real doubts about his ability to see to the crew's emotional state. Without even Kes to help smooth the transition, until such time as Tuvok was able to come up with someone to fulfill the unofficial role of counselor the first officer had performed, things would most likely have to remain as they were.

He also still had to appoint a new first officer, but he needed to take particular care when making his selection. Currently, the members of the senior staff all had very real duties to perform. Tom Paris, his first choice, not only had the helm to contend with but his duties in sickbay, as well. B'Elanna was, quite frankly, needed in Engineering. Harry was much younger than Tuvok would have liked, less experienced than he preferred. None of them had command experience to speak of, aside from leading the occasional away mission. The training required would be extensive, not only for the officer selected but for his or her replacement, also.

And there was very little time to devote to any of it with the increasing number of Jehnz-yin ships in the area.

They'd crept as stealthily as possible, occasionally having to stop or double back and find a new course as the remaining Jehnz-yin military cruisers still seemed to stumble around. Other ships had begun to appear on the fringes of their radar. Ships bearing the same configuration as the Imperial Guard, according to Senator Narrus, the lead Oncaveat senator aboard now that Benzas was gone. Narrus seemed to think there could be no good reason for the guard to be so far away from Ghanza Prime, and Tuvok was inclined to agree with his assessment. Narrus advised caution, expressing concern that the Guard and the military were engaging in what had to be standard search patterns, indicating that Voyager was clearly still being searched for. Not knowing what the connection was between the two different factions, least of all with regard to Voyager, Tuvok erred on the side of caution and ordered their goal to be avoiding both fleets. According to Narrus's limited knowledge of the Guard vessels, however, they were slightly more refined than the military cruisers Voyager had been engaging all along (and were still avoiding simultaneously), and Voyager's scans confirmed his analysis. Voyager would have to take care to maintain a greater distance from these newer vessels, an added challenge that Tom Paris took on without complaint, if not with any noticeable enthusiasm.

It was becoming a growing concern as the alien vessels appeared to circle closer and closer to their position, no matter the course alterations or tactics he employed to forestall their accidental discovery. With the circuitous route they were forced to take, it would likely be another ten days before they could clear Jehnz-yin space entirely. Within three weeks, if preliminary data from long range scans proved correct, they would be able to find a suitable location to relocate their Oncaveat passengers. It was then, Tuvok had decided, that he would broach the topic of holding a memorial service to honor the memories of Voyager's command team. By that time, the crew would have had sufficient time to digest the real loss they had suffered, and then the healing process could begin. Ideally, at any rate.

"Commander, there's another Jehnz-yin warship altering its search pattern." Rollins, now working in Tuvok's place at tactical, broke the hours-long silence that had dominated alpha shift. "It seems to be assuming a course that will put it on an intercept heading with Voyager."

"_Again_? They're starting to get a little too lucky for comfort," Tom muttered incredulously, craning his neck around as he looked up from his post. "It's hard to believe this many ships are just randomly guessing where we might be."

"Indeed, Ensign." Tuvok frowned, declining to address the helmsman's comments further. "Distance?"

"Roughly two light years," Rollins projected.

"Time to intercept?"

"At our present speed and heading, looks like about eight hours, possibly seven if they're in top condition."

"But we'd come into their sensor range within three," Harry warned from OPS.

"Ensign Paris, can you compensate?"

Tom shook his head as he manipulated several different tables at once on his console. "I can, but given the location and incoming trajectory of those first two ships, we'd have to practically double back the way we came."

Tuvok steepled his index fingers together, feeling the eyes of the entire bridge crew upon him as he pondered this newest development. The odds were against this many near misses in such a small timeframe. And yet none of the ships had given any other indication that they were aware of Voyager's position. It was possible that they were testing some new form of detection technology but had not yet determined its success. Until they were certain, he didn't believe it wise to risk detection by continuing on their present course.

He nodded to Tom. "Very well, Ensign. Please modify our heading appropriately."

"Yes, sir," Tom acknowledged on a quiet intake of breath. "Altering course."

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

Gerros was in a sour mood this evening, she thought. There'd been an air of…something hard underlying his tone and actions, and Kathryn had found dealing with him more daunting than usual. Her own irritation had been sparking, due to sheer nerves, as it was when he was in this kind of mood that he reminded her of Garan Xi most. However, she was determined not to be put off by his apparent displeasure with…whatever the hell had displeased him this evening. She'd been putting on these ridiculous performances with no little effort on her part all week; the least she was owed in return was a sound explanation of his reasoning.

He'd told her she looked lovely, as he did every evening, and though the compliment seemed genuine, that alone was enough to make her uncomfortable, even consciously knowing it was largely due to disliking the notion of anyone bearing the resemblance of Garan appreciating her appearance in any regard. It all added to her sense of frustration, but she forced herself to push on through her exhaustion and physical discomfort, determined to get this evening over with.

While she sat impassively on display to the adoring, smitten crowd, the long high table before her was cleared and removed, just as it had been last night. Though she disliked this newer addition to the evenings immensely, Kathryn was glad to have it begin all the same because that set her one step closer to being able to collapse into bed afterward. In the meantime, the coming half hour was likely to be the most taxing of all.

The chancellor stood to allow his seat to be moved slightly closer to hers, bowing and excusing himself with a terse explanation that he needed to speak with his aide, and Kathryn merely acknowledged him with an equally terse nod. Slightly queasy, she watched as the rest of the tables in the banquet hall were cleared though not removed. Those guests that had been chosen to be honored by Xi tonight began gathering into a loose cluster in the center of the large hall. She studied the remaining guests, her eyes scanning the crowds, concentrating on guessing what each person's request might be.

These were members of the upper class who had pledged support to the chancellor's new campaign, as she remembered Gerros explaining last night. In a moment, they would form a line and approach her, asking for her blessing in some matter or another. Some asked for prowess in their business ventures, others for virility and stamina on the battlefield…though none of them were soldiers that Kathryn could see. They all asked to be blessed with children, something she found more than a little odd when many of those asking had several children in tow behind them.

She'd been meaning to ask about that, too, now that she thought about it…

Gradually, she watched but didn't really see, the torches burning all along the walls of the dim hall flickering as the air was disturbed by the aides coming and going in and out of the room. The peculiar, unique scent of the Jehnz-yi began to overcome the dissipating aromas of spiced meats, and she lost herself in musing for a while, thinking on the layout of the estate's grounds – what little of it she'd managed to convince Xi to allow them to tour. Leaving the planet without being detected, when they weren't permitted out of their rooms without an escort, was going to be virtually impossible. It was difficult to argue their armed guard, however, when the chancellor claimed it was for their own safety, especially when she could see for herself the barely concealed disdain many of his government officials had for her. But she still recognized the need for actively pursing an alternate plan in case the chancellor proved less than honest in his promise to allow them to leave after his goal, whatever that was, had been reached.

The only access to any ships, as they'd discovered, was within the docking facility attached to the Imperial Guard's nearby compound. She'd yet to manage permission to tour the small guard base, but as she and Chakotay saw it, it would probably take a bit of deception on her part to see it, considering how distrusting the Jehnz-yin advisors to Xi were. The only way she would likely get Xi to agree to a tour would be to imply that there might be a few suggestions she could make on how to improve their ships' efficiency. While Janeway didn't like dishonesty, there were times that it was necessary, and besides, she wouldn't be lying when she told him she wouldn't be able to help him make any upgrades, after all. She just wouldn't have to tell him it was the Prime Directive that prevented her from doing so, much less her own morals. And the deception would be worth it for a first hand look at that docking facility.

A shadow loomed over her, startling her to rigid attention.

"Are you unwell this evening?" The Chancellor leaned over her to be heard above the scraping and rustling as his heavy chair was replaced at her side.

She thought he'd been across the room and hadn't noticed his return. Her insides recoiling at the sudden, jarring appearance, Janeway forced herself to return his gaze, to look up into his by-now-familiar visage as she tried to quell the furious pounding of her heart. To her surprise, a solicitous concern was written across his features, and it appeared to be genuine. What was more, he was unable to hide the almost…hurt look on his face upon seeing her jump.

"I am not my father, Kathryn." He spoke quietly so as not to be overheard, but his voice struck a plaintive note nonetheless.

She kicked herself mentally for the irrational reaction to his sudden reappearance. With a quick, fortifying swallow, she evened her voice – she hoped. "I know that, Chancellor. I'm sorry."

He was placated by her response, his hairless brows loosing some of the knit between them. "No. It's I who should be sorry. It was a natural reaction. I should have taken care not to startle you." A guard sauntered closer, likely within hearing range, and Xi straightened, probably without realizing it. "But are you well, Kathryn? You don't quite look it."

And perhaps she'd made an unfair judgment regarding his mood, she decided. He'd only been more brusque than usual. Considering his still-concerned face, she admitted now that there was every chance she'd been overreacting all night. It was entirely possible that the chancellor had been suffering for her constant and automatic comparison of him to his father yet _again_ – and that wasn't fair to him. If she hadn't had the first experience, would she have jumped to the conclusion that Xi was irritated simply because he was less talkative than usual?

Probably not, she had to admit ruefully.

She smiled what she hoped was reassuringly, making the extra effort to respond politely. "No. I'm fine, thank you."

"Are you sure?" He looked unconvinced as he took the seat beside her. "You looked…troubled just then."

Now was as good a time as any to bring it up, she supposed, and Janeway seized at the opening he presented. Keeping her tone casual, she ventured, "I was just thinking that it's time we had that discussion. About your ultimate endgame with regard to the Oncaveat. Surely you have a plan – at the very least, some underlying motivation for orchestrating this unprecedented cease fire, Chancellor."

"Of course I do. And I've asked you to call me Gerros, Kathryn," he reminded as she felt his eyes resting on her. He seemed to do that more often lately.

Pushing back on the automatic distaste and keeping her eyes fixed on the guests across the room, she nodded again. "Yes. I'm sorry, you have. I'd like to know what that plan is, Gerros. And I was thinking this evening would be the perfect time to discuss it."

"That is a pleasant coincidence, then. Those were my exact thoughts, as well. If you're certain you're not too tired?"

She could hear the smile in his voice and hid her surprise at his response, having expected much more resistance to her suggestion. "No," she assured him. "I'm up to a discussion. I think it's past time we talked about this."

A pleased grunt met her ears. "Good. Then we will make more one stop on the way to your rooms when the blessing is over. I'll alert my aides while we're waiting."

He rose again, leaving Janeway to appreciate that the chancellor certainly seemed to be in an agreeable mood now, at least. It should make things much easier, and with luck, she would be able to fall into bed sooner than she'd anticipated.

She resisted the urge to crane her neck around and seek out Chakotay's familiar presence, knowing he was there and wouldn't have left her.

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

Ellizas Benn led the commander on a deliberately circuitous route, winding through the less travelled passages and occasionally retaking the same corridors, trembling inwardly all the while. He'd never been this conflicted in all his years of life. What he had to do now was unthinkable. Of the paths spread out before him to follow, all were in some way grossly unpalatable.

He was a loyal man, by Jehnz-yin standards. Loyal to himself first and foremost, of course, but loyal to his beliefs, loyal to his chancellor, who was both his master and on good days, his friend. He was loyal to his family…although Ellizas's loyalties had always been torn between his sister and his father in that regard. He hated to see them fighting, which they did more often than not. It was the reason he'd proposed his ridiculous, half-thought out plan earlier.

He hadn't expected either one of them to embrace it as strongly as they had...much less to turn to him to execute this crucial part of it. And now the plan was in direct conflict with the explicit orders his chancellor had handed down this evening. He'd never disobeyed orders. Not once in ten faithful years of uncomplaining service. He wasn't entirely sure he knew how…how to bring himself to deliberately defy the man he had pledged to serve. But he'd never deliberately disobeyed his father, either, let alone purposefully displeased his sister. And now…now, thanks to the humans, Ellizas was caught between loyalty to his family, loyalty to his chancellor and friend, and loyalty to preserving his own fine skin.

He didn't know what he was going to do yet. He only knew that he was stalling, and that that stalling could not be kept up indefinitely. Eventually, sooner rather than later, he was going to have to make the choice.

Unaware of his companion's thoughts, Chakotay followed Ellizas Benn along an unfamiliar path that seemed to twist and wind almost nonsensically. As these were halls he and Kathryn hadn't seen before, he tried to keep an eye out for distinguishing landmarks, artwork, statues, or doorplates that were particularly remarkable, in case the knowledge should come in handy later. But whenever he tried to ask about any of it, Ellizas brushed him off, simply asking Chakotay to follow quietly.

After a considerable amount of time had passed without the aide's gait giving any indication of slowing, Chakotay realized that the course they'd taken couldn't be the most direct route to their destination, no matter what their destination was. Frowning, he sidled closer to Benn, closing the set distance he'd kept between them and whispering, "You're trying to make sure we're not being followed, aren't you?"

For the first time, Ellizas did slow his swift steps, though he did not halt them. Throwing his companion a sidelong glance, he muttered, "You're more intelligent than the chancellor gives you credit for, Commander. You and your captain both are."

There was grudging respect in the man's voice, quite possibly the first of it that had been directed at either Chakotay or Kathryn in the weeks that they'd been here – aside from Xi, of course. The commander took it as an encouraging sign, and he kept his voice low as he matched pace with Ellizas. "Thank you," he acknowledged simply. "What can you tell me? What have you heard about Voyager? Has the ship been–"

"_Not_ _here_." Ellizas held up a hand, hissing over him as they walked. "There are too many listening ears. I will explain when we reach our destination, you have my word, but for now, you must be silent."

Chakotay studied his escort's profile. What Ellizas said made sense. He knew there were those among Xi's inner circle who were dying to see Kathryn disappear, were probably itching to get their hands on Voyager's technology – not to mention the Oncaveat that were most likely still aboard.

But he couldn't imagine what the ship had been doing in Jehnz-yin space all this time – unless they'd been holding out hope that he and Kathryn were still alive? Was it possible? He wondered. It didn't sound like Tuvok at all, but if the ship was still nearby, by some obscure chance, he and Kathryn would have to do their best to protect it. To keep it from falling into the wrong hands – namely, any Jehnz-yin hands. The Jehnz-yin officials were a power hungry lot; that much was indisputable, from the lowliest aides to the chancellor himself.

Needing to know what Ellizas had to tell him, the sooner the better, Chakotay held his tongue and tried to keep up, hoping that Kathryn wouldn't have to be kept waiting for him too long back at the banquet hall.

* * *

**Part IV**

* * *

After an hour of trying to form the cold contact, Senator Accor realized she wasn't going to be able to get anything done until she quieted the insistent rumbling in her belly. It kept distracting her most dreadfully. The one small tartlet Chakotay had thoughtfully saved her wasn't enough to fill her otherwise empty stomachs, it seemed, so in frustration, she crossed her elaborate chamber to the door leading into Janeway's room.

Expecting to have to choke down some of the less palatable leftovers from that morning, Shasta was pleasantly surprised to note that someone – probably the young serving girl who brought their refreshments each morning – had come unexpectedly while she'd been attempting her meditations. Already, a fresh tray of pastries rested on the low table beside the captain's bed, alongside several cold pitchers of juice and water. And they'd _finally_ noticed that many of the baked goods were returned untouched each morning. Tonight, there were only the selections that were usually eaten, and they were obviously freshly baked: as she took one of the green-striped tartlets and broke it in half, fragrant steam burst forth from its piping hot filling. Shasta ate the first carefully, so as not to burn her mouth and, pouring a small glass of water, took two more of the green pastries before wandering back into her own room with her dinner.

She still had a good hour left before Kathryn and Chakotay returned, she estimated as she absently chewed the second pastry without really tasting it. It would be enough time to establish the contact she sought, now that her stomachs would no longer distract her.

* * *

**Part V**

* * *

"We're honored, enlightened mistress, that you would bestow upon our humble family your blessing in this matter."

The last guest bowed low for what seemed the hundredth time, his chin practically scraping the floor while he backed away from her chair and, somehow, managed to usher his wife and three children with him as he went.

"You bring honor to your family name, Hrymt," Gerros drawled magnanimously. "Your dedication to your government shall not be overlooked."

"Yes…thank you, Excellency." As always, Xi was barely glanced at, the entire family's eyes on Janeway and Janeway alone.

She forced herself not to cringe at the sniveling platitudes, giving her best impression of haughty disinterest until the Alzi family turned at last and were escorted from the massive hall.

She breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed into her chair, more than ready to embrace a moment to simply rest without having to guard her expression or hide her exhaustion, but it was not to be.

"Are you ready, Kathryn?"

Summoning a smile from…somewhere…Kathryn nodded and stood up with the chancellor's solicitous aid, his clawed hand closing carefully over her arm as he growled for her cane to be produced at once, but she barely noticed any of this. When her second casual perusal of the room did not reveal Chakotay waiting for her by the doors, she was immediately snapped into full alertness, her eyes scanning every partially hidden or darkened corner of the hall. Nothing.

He was absent. Not in the room with her for the first time since…since she'd first opened her eyes on this planet, really. Aside from short bathroom breaks, they'd not been separated in the entirety of her convalescence, and yet at no point had she stopped and reflected upon this – until now.

Now that fact hit home, and in a way she didn't like.

"Where is Commander Chakotay?" Keeping the alarm out of her voice was difficult.

"I was told he was unwell."

These words did absolutely nothing to reassure her.

"What do you mean he's 'unwell'?" Icy tendrils of fear crept over her heart, squeezing painfully. She fought to remain calm. "What happened? Is he hurt? Where is he?"

Xi looked remorseful at her stricken expression, turning her to face him with the slightest pressure on her upper arm, which he'd not yet released. "No, Kathryn, I'm sorry. I should have been more clear. He's not gravely ill. He simply looked unwell a while ago. When asked, he said he thought he'd eaten something that disagreed with him, and my aide suggested that he return to your rooms and rest."

"He wouldn't have left me," she retorted with certainty, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"He was reluctant to leave you, yes," Xi continued smoothly, "but when my aide assured him I would personally escort you to back to your rooms, he decided he would rest rather then risking further illness. He apologizes but asks you not to worry and to summon him if you should need him before then."

That sounded like him. The reluctance to leave her. And his stomach had been giving him a great deal of trouble, as had hers, worse after the rich food served at the banquets. It made sense. But when she relaxed only slightly at the explanation, the chancellor ventured, "I'll send Doctor Benn to see him, if you like?"

Gradually, her heart had slowed to a normal pace again, and she realized she was being ridiculous. For God's sake, the man wasn't tied to her hip. She could handle a simple conversation by herself. When had it become the case that she thought she couldn't? Now, it was almost a personal challenge, in light of her absurd overreaction.

"No." Her voice was decisively crisp and clear, almost harsh. Wincing at the sharpness of the retort, which she didn't want to come off as hostile, Janeway amended her tone to a softer note, "No, that won't be necessary. I'm sure he's fine."

Gerros smiled slightly as he studied her new resolved demeanor. "Very well. If you should change your mind, she can be sent at will. She's available to be called at any hour, if you'll recall."

"Yes," Kathryn murmured absently, "I remember." She also recalled both she and Chakotay being loathe to summon the venomous woman unless it was an absolute emergency and knew Chakotay wouldn't appreciate her interference in that regard. Hopefully, a bit of peace and quiet would benefit him while she and the chancellor discussed his plans for the Oncaveat. Still… "Can you send someone to let him know we'll be later than usual returning? I don't want him to worry unnecessarily."

"Already done. My aide has informed him we will be delayed." He gestured to the doors as they were pulled apart for them when she still hadn't moved. "Shall we? I'm looking forward to our discussion…there is still much I have to share with you."

Janeway agreed with that sentiment, but something prickled at the back of her mind as she stared at the open doors in front of them. "And why can't we have our discussion here?"

The chancellor only smiled blandly. "The subjects we are hoping to discuss this evening are not matters for prying ears. I would prefer to have this conversation in private, where there is no chance of us being overheard."

Of course he would. That made perfect sense. She nodded, taking the cane that was held out for her and mentally preparing herself for the long walk through the decorated halls ahead.

* * *

**Part VI**

* * *

It wasn't until the very last moment, when she'd almost given up and ended her meditative session in frustration that Shasta felt it: a strange twinge of emotion she knew hadn't come from her. Adoration mixed with an inherent revulsion. The thrill of a fresh hunt, a sensation nearly forgotten. Excitement and virility. Longing, anticipation of a challenge and of an imminent, significant victory. And, beneath it all, regret.

It was him. She knew it at once from the undeniably masculine, forceful quality to the presence that descended around her, almost engulfing her within its mantle of strength.

Now that it was made, the connection was almost too easy to hold. It was almost as if it had been there all along, operating on a parallel frequency to her own thoughts. A frequency that only needed to be recognized to be accessed. She almost laughed at the revelation. All this time, these past hours…she'd simply been trying too hard.

The connection slammed through her now, threatening to overwhelm her with the strength of it.

She saw Kathryn…clearly as she had just hours ago while helping her prepare for the evening event…walking beside her as Shasta strode through a hallway that she'd never seen before yet knew every square centimeter of by heart… Xi knew every inch of it by heart. She was looking through his eyes, she realized, and almost started in surprise at this discovery. She was in his consciousness, or on the fringes of it. She could hear his thoughts, feel his moods, which were shifting rapidly, much more so than anyone she'd ever bonded with before.

Her hearts fluttered in apprehension. The chancellor was a telepath of the strongest kind. An aberration of genetics, to say the least, when he shouldn't have been able to form this bond with her at all, let alone be capable of overwhelming her with the contact, given his half-Jehnz-yin heritage.

And she at once had her answer to the reason she hadn't been able to contact Yurros in all this time she'd been on the planet. The joining was so strong that it was blocking out all else, even her surroundings. How she had missed it, when it had so clearly been there all the while, she didn't have time to figure out.

She shoved her reflections aside, anxious to learn all she could about her s…about Gerros Xi and his motives. Containing herself was so difficult, but necessary. If she allowed of any one of her own emotions to spike…fear, success, or dread…she could very well risk discovery by her target. And that would mean game over before she'd even had a chance to sort through the overwhelming amount of information his senses, thoughts, and idle musings were already giving her. With effort, she breathed deeply, allowing herself to sink deeper into the connection to observe the exchange she was effectively spying in upon.

"_Where are we going?"_

"_I thought my chambers would be the ideal setting for our discussion. There is no more secure location on the estate."_

"_You're pretty secretive about your plans, aren't you? Are you certain that isn't just a bit of unwarranted paranoia, Chancellor?" _

_She strove to hide it from him, but the thought alarmed her, for some reason. A flare of anger at her presumption. At the presumption of her actions before the banquet. At complete contrast with his inner feeling, Shasta actually felt his mouth twist upwards in an outwardly indulgent smile. "It's Gerros, Kathryn. And I can see how you could come to that conclusion. However, I did not get where I am by being less than circumspect. I'm sure you, of anyone, can understand that."_

_A wistful smile turned the corner of her mouth upwards, also. "I didn't mean to be insulting, Gerros. But you'll have to unveil your plan to the public anyway, won't you?"_

"_Not all of it. Not until the campaign is more fully under way, at least." _

"_Can I ask you something now, then? About the blessings I've been performing?"_

"_Of course, Kathryn. What about them?"_

_His eyes never left her, whether he kept them downcast to hide this from her or not. She had difficulty keeping pace with him, but she never once complained, simply leaning more heavily on her cane and forcing herself to keep up. A smile of amusement flitted across his face this time. He dropped his gaze somewhat as her eyes fell on him again._

"_The last man we saw this evening…"_

"_Hrymt Alzi?"_

"_Yes. Him. His wife asked for the blessing of offspring…"_

"_And yet he had three children with him." She had noticed. It pleased him. _

"_Well, yes. And I was wondering–"_

"_Why he should seek the blessing of the revered goddess of fertility when he already had three children?" His smile was difficult to contain. _

"_Exactly."_

"_He was asking for his wife, Kathryn."_

"_I don't understand."_

_He'd known she didn't. "The children were his, but not hers." _

_He particularly liked the look on her face when she was trying to work out some puzzle. The way her brows knitted together in concentration. _

"_I don't think I follow what you're…" she trailed off, and then he knew she did. She halted her steps entirely, turning to him in surprise. "Are you telling me that all of those children I've seen…are half Oncaveat? That none of them…were fully Jehnz-yin?"_

_He stopped beside her, taking a calculated step closer, and as the whirl of motion their moving bodies had been creating dissipated, studied her openly. "Some were. But most of them were not, no."_

_Her face registered the shock of this revelation. "And their wives don't…that's acceptable in your culture?" _

"_More so in the recent decade, under my influence," he replied. _

_And then she felt it. A surge of unadulterated malice which made her gasp in surprise. Along with that malice came an image of her own face in Xi's mind…_

_And then it was gone as he was distracted by something else entirely. His nostrils twitched. He could smell the alien scent of her increasingly as the journey, bordering on arduous for her, had brought out her natural endorphins. It was, as he had noted before, not an unpleasant scent, for all its strange, almost sweet quality. _

_He was pleased with the toll their walk took. It would make things easier if she was tired when they arrived._

A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through her stomachs, and she momentarily snapped out of the connection. Placing her hand protectively over her belly, Shasta waited for the sensation to repeat itself, but when it didn't, the bond took over again without any effort on her part, and she had no time to process the strange discomfort.

_A light perspiration from the exertion of walking had begun to make Janeway's skin shine under the powder that leant her the more Jehnz-yin appearance. She lifted her head upon sighting the heavy doors looming just ahead of them, and he was afforded a generous view of the skin spanning her slender neck. His eyes were drawn to the small patch of white he could see emerging there. And then an image flashed in his memory, an image of a smooth, tanned hand splayed at the side of that slender neck, a short, unclawed thumb stroking the white skin of her cheekbone. Rage coursed through his veins, potent and thick. _

_He looked away just before she turned expectantly to face him, gesturing her inside. "After you."_

_She preceded him inside the chambers, and the guards waited until he had entered behind her before they, too, entered the room. _

* * *

**Part VII**

* * *

After what must have been a good thirty minutes of walking in aimless circles, Chakotay was surprised to be led back to none other than the room he shared with Kathryn, but he offered no resistance as he was ushered inside, too anxious by now to hear what the aide had to say to him.

"What is this all about, Ellizas?" he asked as soon as the door had shut behind them. "Do you have word of Voyager or not?"

"A moment, Commander," the aide cautioned, fiddling with the door lock mechanism with one gloved hand and holding a small device out to Chakotay with the other.

Puzzled, Chakotay took the device, but he barely had time to hold the small grey mechanism up to the light, which he and Kathryn must have forgotten to dim on their way out, before the strange implement was taken back from him and pressed against the door, where it stuck fast of its own accord.

"Step back."

He complied without thinking, wary of the device and ludicrously entertaining the thought that it might be some sort of explosive… He saw his error in the next instant that Xi's aide faced him. As Ellizas turned away from the door, the weapon he drew from the inside of his robes and pointed directly at Chakotay had the commander freezing in his tracks.

His heart began to pound with the rush of adrenaline released into his bloodstream, and he cursed his own stupidity in that moment. Damn it, he should have known better. He should have _known_…

"What are you doing?" Chakotay demanded, much more evenly than he'd expected to be able to. Every muscle in his body had tensed as he eyed his opponent, his eyes darting between the weapon now trained on him and the aide's eyes, which held a strange light to them he hadn't seen there before. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Commander," Ellizas murmured, a fine sheen of what looked to be sweat dotting his brow and upper lip. His tone remained hard, however. "Chancellor's orders…couldn't be helped. Take a seat over on the bed, please."

"If I'd prefer not to?" Chakotay gritted, futilely, he expected.

"You'll do it anyway." The weapon didn't waver, and as Ellizas noted the calculating look in the commander's eyes, he shook his head slightly. "Unless you prefer the idea of forcing me to pull this trigger and leaving your captain to defend herself in your absence, take a seat, Commander."

Those words were all it took to have his heart stop beating in his chest. "What are you talking about? Is there some reason I don't know about that she should _need_ to defend herself? What the hell is going on here?"

Ellizas only shrugged and again gestured to the bed with his lethally crafted energy weapon. The power cell alone took up a good portion of the handle, Chakotay noted upon inspection…

"_Now_, Commander. I won't ask again."

Chakotay's jaw tightened as his gaze lifted. He wouldn't take that chance, and Ellizas knew it. Not caring as much for his own life as he did for hers, he knew he couldn't justify taking the risk that Ellizas would miss the shot he'd certainly have time to take before Chakotay could close the distance between them. He couldn't leave her alone on this planet, with these people, if there was still a chance in hell he could get himself out of this alive. For now, he had no choice but to play along.

He turned and took the extra steps to the bed, reluctantly sitting along the very edge, assuming a posture that would allow him to rise easily when the moment came. Wondering all the while if this was it, and if he had failed her completely with this one colossally stupid mistake.

"Are you going to kill me now, Ellizas?" he asked evenly of his captor. "Is that was this is? Did Xi order me taken care of?"

Ellizas was ignoring him. Still standing just at the inside of the door, the aide had turned to face it, having removed a scanning device from his belt with his other hand. Chakotay's brow furrowed as the man scanned each wall and surface in turn, starting with the left wall and making a full three hundred and sixty degree circle of the room. Every few seconds, he glanced over to make sure Chakotay made no move to leave the bed. When he'd completed his strange inspection, he replaced the scanner back into a small pocket at the inside of his robes. It was on the tip of Chakotay's tongue to ask what the aide was doing again, but the thought was lost as he saw a lapse in concentration, and he almost leapt to his feet.

As if sensing the increased intensity behind him, Ellizas swung abruptly about, catching Chakotay halfway between standing and sitting. With a hard shake of his head, he growled, "_Sit_, Commander."

The bad taste in his mouth at taking the order aside, he grudgingly complied, never breaking eye contact with his adversary for a second. "You don't have news of the ship at all, do you?" he asked, already certain he knew the answer to that question.

The aide sighed. "In answer to your first questions, I was ordered to keep you otherwise entertained this evening," was the cryptic response. "Not to kill you. Unless you gave me no choice, of course."

"_Why_?" The answer couldn't be good. "What is this about, Ellizas? Where's Kathryn?"

"With the chancellor, of course. He wanted to have a discussion with her. Without you around, for once. Rather than make a scene by forcefully separating the two of you, I was ordered to convince you to come of your own accord while the captain was otherwise occupied."

"You have to know that won't work for long." He had to believe it wouldn't. Had to believe she had already noticed, had guessed something was wrong and was raising hell over it. "She'll want to know where I am…"

"And she will be told that you were taken ill after consuming the evening meal." Ellizas relaxed against the doorframe, letting his hand rest against his hip but keeping his weapon steadily on the commander all the while.

The helpless fear he'd been fighting back slammed through him, powerful waves that heightened his senses and made his voice husky with fury as he realized how very thoroughly he'd been set up. They'd been planning this for who knew how long. The apparent softening of Benn's attitude. That smirk on Xi's face when they'd returned from just outside the banquet hall tonight. The unexpected compliment Ellizas had given him on the way to the room. He'd eaten it up, too…all of it.

And now Kathryn might be the one to pay for it.

"I swear to you, Ellizas, if she's harmed in any way, I'll find a way to make you both regret you were ever born."

There was a moment of silence while Ellizas studied him. When he finally spoke, this time, his eyes held a strange flicker of understanding, "I'm truly sorry, Commander. If the choice were mine…" He shook his head, and he actually seemed genuinely remorseful. "It wasn't. There was no other way."

"Tell me what's happening, damn you!"

Ellizas's voice was entirely too gentle now. Far too sad. "He won't kill her, Commander. I can at least promise you that."

Chakotay knew terror again in that moment.

* * *

**Part VIII**

* * *

"You're not gonna believe this, Commander," Harry Kim announced, marking the second time in as many hours that the silence had been broken on the bridge. He glanced up from his console as all eyes turned to him. "Looks like _another_ warship has just popped up on sensors."

"I see it, too," Rollins confirmed, peering intently down at his own screen. "They're currently just over four light years from us, but with our new course, it will bring them within closer range fairly quickly. It looks like they've been heading for our altered course all along, but…" he frowned, trailing off.

"There's no way four Jehnz-yin ships have accidentally set up search patterns to coincide with every single course change we make," Tom spat, turning from the helm, having completed his own discreet scans.

Tuvok had to agree. "The odds are considerably against it."

"So what gives? What are they doing? They have to see us. Why aren't they engaging us?"

"They could be trying to box us in before they make a move," Rollins supplied, the ring of concern in his voice.

"Unfortunately, at this point, I'd have to say they're pretty close. With this latest ship, the only course change I can make is going to take us within range of one of the first two. Whether we try to go over the first or under the second…" Paris trailed off with a shake of his head.

"Commander. The fourth ship is sending out a subspace transmission, audio only," Harry reported. He lifted his head to make eye contact as Tuvok rose from his chair. "It appears to be aimed…directly at us."

The silence that descended this time was significant as they all came to the same conclusion. It seemed they were going to get their answers.

* * *


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one. They're not mine.

**Chapter Rating**: T

Chapter Thirty-Two

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

"_Warship Voyager. You are listening to the voice of First General Rimmaz Benn. I am the successor to the late General Xi, whom I believe you had dealings with before his unfortunate demise. If you want your captain and commander returned to you, you will continue to alter course to avoid the three military cruisers closest to your position. Maintain a distance of no more or less than two and a half light years from one of them at all times, and we will guide you to your missing officers. Further instructions will follow as I deem you in need of them. Do not make any attempts to communicate with any military or Guard vessel, and do not stray further from the closest vessel than I have outlined. I do not guarantee the safety of your ship or that of your officers unless my dictates are adhered to_."

The recording ended, leaving the room cloaked in silence for a long moment.

Eventually, Tom Paris ventured, "Could we hear it again?"

A noise of disgust emitted from across the conference table. "We've heard it at least a dozen times now. The message isn't going to change with one more playback."

"The doctor is correct, Ensign. The content of the transmission has remained constant."

"Yeah, I _know that_, Seven. It's…I just can't help feeling like we're missing something. After all this time?" Paris shook his head. "Of course I want to believe him, but…"

"It just sounds too good to be true," B'Elanna acknowledged miserably. Her eyes flickered over each of her companions at the conference table, ending on Tuvok, who had yet to speak so far, aside from having directed Harry to play the message the first time. "And if it sounds too good to be true…"

"It usually is," Harry finished with a reluctant nod. "So I suppose that's the real question then," he outlined slowly, "whether or not we believe this Rimmaz Benn." He spread his hands out on the table, his fingertips splayed wide as he studied them. "Everyone already knows_ I_ believe at least half of it is true. But on the other hand…we know from experience how unlikely it is that the Jehnz-yin military has suddenly come around to our side in all this." His eyes rose to regard the others. "To just…give them back to us? After Xi went to all the trouble to try and hold us all there? There'd have to be a very good reason for it – one we're not aware of."

"It's…possible…they're too beaten down by the implosion of their bases," Neelix ventured hopefully. "Uh, that is to say, it did take out…what? Half their ships?"

"Our last calculations indicated that approximately seventy three percent of their vessels had been destroyed or otherwise disabled."

"That many?" Neelix was amazed. "Well…why, that's nearly…"

"Forty three vessels were rendered permanently inoperable."

Neelix stared at the former drone in awe. "But that only leaves them with…what? Fifteen ships left? Out of sixty?"

"At last count, seventeen warships remained functional after the rift imploded," Seven further clarified.

Harry remembered too well that the only reason for their unprecedented level of success was that the late general had called many of his ships back to Osalik in preparation for Voyager's arrival…when he'd thought he could lure Voyager back for the…for Captain Janeway. He swallowed, the words he felt compelled to utter burning through the back of his throat regardless of his personal feelings on the subject. "They could be luring us into a trap. It's not beyond the realm of possibility."

He thought he caught an approving glance from Tuvok, which was ridiculous, of course, but then Tom piped up again, drawing his focus back to the conversation.

"Traps aren't exactly their style, though. Have we ever seen them do _anything_ subtle?" He snorted. "They're much more the club-you-over-the-head kind than they are the phaser-you-from-behind sort."

"It's possible they're adapting their methods in light of present circumstances."

"To what end, though?" B'Elanna growled, already frustrated with the seemingly circular debate. "If they wanted to take us out, there are enough ships now between the Guard vessels and the military cruisers nearby that they could do it." She shook her head. "I'm not seeing their logic, here, either way. And I certainly don't trust them. On the other hand…I do think Harry knows what he saw. He believes Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay are alive, and just for the record, if he says they are, then I believe him." The Vulcan didn't miss the pointed look of near challenge shot at him by B'Elanna. Nor did he do any more than raise a solitary eyebrow and maintain his silence; it was a point he'd heard before, many times. "So that means this Rimmaz is at least telling us half the truth."

Again, Tuvok said nothing, seeming content to allow the rest of them to work through their thoughts, no matter his own take on the likelihood of the command team's survival.

"Well there's no risk in hearing them out, is there? We could try for a few days and see if anything pans out," Neelix proposed.

"In the meantime, they would have the time to summon the remainder of their fleet now that they've located us," Tom pointed out, though he was loathe to do so at the risk of crushing the first light of hope he'd seen in either Neelix's familiar eyes or Harry's in weeks. He almost cringed to have to continue, "And then they _will_ have enough ships of their own to take the ship, with or without the Guard's help. But that's another thing. How did they find us, if not with the Guard's help?" He frowned, rolling his chair back as he leaned forward. "We might have unknowingly passed into sensor range of those ships the first few times, but never any of the military cruisers."

"And Narrus said they never cooperate," Neelix provided. "But they appear to have, at least to some degree." He shrugged, looking decidedly hopeful. "Maybe they're just cutting their losses. Maybe they were afraid we'd come back for them later if they didn't give us the captain and the commander back. It's reasonable to assume they'd be afraid of us orchestrating another attack against them in the future, isn't it?"

"But that's just as good of an argument for pulling together to lead us into an ambush," Harry frowned, shaking his head. "Not to take the chance that we'd do it anyway once we got the captain back."

Seven agreed with this assessment. "That would be more consistent with their established pattern of behavior."

"But if Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay really aren't gone," piped in the doctor, "why wouldn't they have gotten some signal to us before now? To at least let us know they were alive?" He seemed miffed at the idea that they might not have done so.

"If the captain and commander were taken as prisoners of war, they may not have had access to communications equipment," was Tuvok's first significant contribution since calling the meeting some fifteen minutes beforehand. "Neither do I believe that either would knowingly place Voyager at risk by contacting us for aid, even if they could have."

Several jaws dropped at this reveal of Tuvok's innermost thoughts.

"But I thought the whole _reason_ for waiting to complete repairs was to give them time to contact us. Now you're saying you never had any expectation of hearing from them at all? Even if they _were_ alive?" B'Elanna looked ready to jump over the table.

"The reason for waiting to complete repairs, Lieutenant, was to complete repairs."

Tom, sensing B'Elanna was on the verge of serious insubordination, coughed delicately, interjecting, "A straight course at maximum warp would take us out of their space in about five days – assuming Senator Narrus is correct in his evaluation of their borders. If the course the military is hinting at with their movements so far is any indication, they would be taking us back the way we came. Toward Ghanza Prime. Assuming that's the rough destination…" He trailed off, frankly not having thought that far ahead when he'd interrupted the tense exchange between acting captain and engineer.

"So we contact them," Neelix urged, "and ask them to explain themselves."

"The general explicitly states that disobeying his directives could cost us the captain and commander's lives," Seven pointed out.

"The Jehnz-yi have not yet proven to us that our officers _are_ alive. We cannot be expected to follow them deeper into their space without some evidence to support their claims."

"And what? Harry's word isn't enough for you?"

"Neelix is right," Tom strategically interrupted again, his voice louder than it strictly needed to be. "If we had proof…if they were able to offer us irrefutable evidence that Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay are still alive…you'd have to agree that this ship's first priority would be getting them back, right? Considering all we stand to lose by leaving them behind?"

"This ship's first priority is, and always will be, the safety of the crew as a whole, Ensign – there is no one who would agree with that sensibility more than Kathryn Janeway."

"Not _always_." B'Elanna was not to be put off, not by one raised eyebrow or by six of them. Not this time. "What about when she blew up the Caretaker's array, for one thing? That was deliberately choosing the welfare of the Ocampa over the safety of Voyager and the crew."

"Or how about when the captain flew us into those binary pulsars," Harry questioned, "just to get us out from under the influence of those alien scientists? Or that she would have set the self-destruct rather than let Cullah take the ship?"

"Lieutenant Torres has a valid point, Commander. There have been instances when Captain Janeway has been willing to sacrifice the lives of everyone aboard when the alternative was a moral incomprehensibility. In fact, I was punished for actively opposing her risk-taking on one such occasion."

"This meeting is not for the purpose of analyzing Captain Janeway's previous command decisions, but to determine the appropriate response to the new general's transmission."

"With all due respect, Commander, that's exactly what we're doing. I was only responding to your statement that she would want the ship to be protected above _absolutely_ everything else. What if this is one of those times that the safety of the ship has to be risked for a higher purpose? It's what we're doing right now by continuing to harbor the Oncaveat, isn't it?"

"You forget, Lieutenant, that the Jehnz-yi were not overly concerned with the distinction between us and the Oncaveat. They attempted to engage us in battle well before we intervened."

"OK. Fine. Let's talk about the Prime Directive, then. The longer we leave them in Jehnz-yin hands, the longer we risk violating it." The Vulcan looked ready to cut her off, opened his mouth to do so when the half-Klingon rushed onward. "No, at least hear me out on this!" At the Vulcan's sharply raised brow, she amended, "_Please_. Just listen. Think about it. What if they are alive? What do you think has been happening to them all this time? What if they've been tortured for information? What if that's how the military found us in the first place?" Several uncomfortable looks passed around the large table, and she continued, "Their safety and well-being aside, can we responsibly leave them in Jehnz-yin hands? Especially knowing what they're capable of doing in order to get information out of their prisoners?"

Harry had difficulty keeping his seat in light of the hopeful tremors building within him...odd, given the topic, but there nonetheless. He easily took up the thread B'Elanna had begun with this new topic. "Then if they've been keeping the captain and the commander for the purpose of information retrieval, the longer they stay, the more information we risk the Jehnz-yi getting. What if they're being interrogated for information relating to our technology? That would make the Prime Directive being called into play in a big way, wouldn't it? And isn't our first priority always the Prime Directive, even over the safety of the ship?"

"If it wasn't, I know our first two years out here would have been a hell of a lot easier," Tom muttered. "We wouldn't have been fighting every faction of the Kazon off our backs."

Tuvok's brow rose noticeably this time. He glanced around the table at the now-eager faces, all of them reflecting more enthusiasm than he'd observed from any of the Voyager crew in weeks as he pondered their words. They had a point. A logical, grounded-in-solid-reasoning point.

He had a better one. "There is no evidence that either one of them is still alive. Given the odds against them, it is highly unlikely they survived an implosion of that magnitude."

"Then we demand proof they _are_ alive. If the Jehnz-yi can't produce it, we'll know they're lying, won't we?" B'Elanna challenged. "If they aren't lying, and they really do want us to have the captain and commander back for some unknown reason, I can't imagine that reason isn't big enough to overcome disobeying their directives."

"And if they _are_ lying," Tom furthered, "well, we haven't really risked anything besides calling their bluff. They already know where we are. We'd just be forcing them to show their hand a little earlier than they wanted to." He shrugged. "Either way, we'd seem to be gaining a distinct advantage. Increasing the odds of our being able to resist them."

Tuvok looked from one expectant face to the next, almost as if seeking an ally in the group. His eyes rested lasted on Seven.

"The proposal is sound," she advocated coolly.

When several tense moments passed with no more objection from Tuvok at the head of the table, the other six occupants of the room barely bothered to contain their smiles.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

Shasta hadn't been able to learn much of anything about the chancellor's plans so far, and she was growing concerned at the intensity of Xi's focus. At his level of awareness of Janeway. He ushered the captain through his living area and into the grand study. As he did so, Shasta felt that his every sense seemed fixated upon the slight woman in front of him. His attention bordered on the level of obsessive, and it was blocking out thoughts of most everything else.

"_There is something I want to show you, Kathryn. Something I think will explain everything so much better than words ever could." _

_Shasta caught an image, a vague picture in his mind of scores of faceless children, Jehnz-yin and Oncaveat alike. And with the import Gerros attached to the image, the fear and hope it provoked within him told her she was finally touching upon something relevant. Excited, she fought to keep her thoughts clear and calm, eager to have him continue along these lines of thinking as he guided Janeway around behind the large, polished desk. He pulled the chair out and adjusted its height before helping her over to it. _

_And then the thoughts were once again submerged with thoughts of the woman beside him._

_As he entered into her space, her other-worldly scent flooded his nostrils, spilled over him once more. A clear view down the front of the low dress, the perpetual swell of her alien figure flashing an image that sparked a deep-rooted pull at baser parts of his psyche, almost having him tightening his hold instead of releasing it. Fighting to tear his gaze away at the last second before either she or the guards noticed his stare. _

_He managed it, just barely. At his silent instruction, one of the guards stepped swiftly forward and removed the cane she'd set against the bookshelf behind her before both bowed low and backed out of the room, closing the doors softly behind them. _

The sharp pain again, this time perhaps rooted in nausea, Shasta thought as the link snapped abruptly away from her. Once, twice the pain gripped her stomachs in agonizing contortions, and her mouth dropped open as a gasp of pain was wrenched from her throat. Then the pain receded again, and the nausea returned.

Stars alive, the chancellor was actually besotted with Janeway! It was strange, and deep within, even he was appalled by the attraction, but he was heavily under its influence, nonetheless. Deep shudders of instinctual disgust for her new friend racked her body. She felt sure Kathryn had no idea. He hid it well, considering the amount of times in any given minute that his thoughts and observations were consumed with her.

Shasta would have to warn her to take more care in her dealings with him…

_Janeway's voice tugged sharply at his attention. "What is it you'd like me to see?"_

_With a thrill of almost nervous anticipation, Gerros explained, "This is a comprehensive study of birthing records within the Jehnz-yin Empire over the past decade. It took some time to have the pertinent details translated into your language. I'm not sure the job was done perfectly…but I believe the results will enable you to grasp the importance of the study."_

_The interface on the small monitor was already pulled up, and he watched, standing behind her as she began to study the graphs right away, already so engrossed in the technical aspects of the report that the guards had managed to retreat unnoticed by her. _

"_Is it decipherable?"_

_She nodded absently, and the shining iridescence of the golden powder in her hair gleamed under the amber desk lamp, playing off the deeper red strands shining through it. _Fire indeed_, he thought to himself distractedly, a symbiotic current of admiration and resentment surging through his consciousness. _

The strange, sharp pain lanced through her again. Shasta barely noticed it this time in her growing concern for what she was observing of the chancellor's thoughts regarding Kathryn.

_Unable to look away from her, from her strangeness and the aura of splendor she gave off even when still, the chancellor tried to take comfort in the fact that it was his own doing. He had recreated her this way, Gerros reminded himself as he observed her. He had made her the compelling creature who sat before him now, studying his desk monitor. He had almost personally overseen the designs for the clothing and the cosmetic enhancements. They'd been engineered to catch at the Jehnz-yin eye and hold it to her._

_The knowledge did nothing to lessen the compulsion to stare, nothing at all to diminish the quality of ethereal radiance he still suspected came as much from her personality and alien bone structure as it did from the changes he'd directed._

_He'd done his job too well, he thought bitterly. Far from elevating him in the public eye, he became an afterthought when in her presence. The people were so thoroughly taken with her image and her mythical abilities that he had all but faded from notice. That would be a very real problem should she decide to stop cooperating with his agenda…a very real possibility once she finished reading over the study and her quick mind put together the rest of it: namely, his plan, his intentions regarding the new campaign. _

_He told himself it was for this reason alone he'd decided it was necessary to take their association to the next level. That he had to bind her more obviously to him in order to properly benefit from the image he'd created for her, could not allow himself to take such a backseat to her in the public eye. _

_And it was partially true. _

_Over her slender shoulder, he again noted the expanse of faintly marred flesh above her low neckline. The skin there had once been smooth, completely devoid of marks or lines. Alien and foreign. The scars there now were a pity. More familiar in appearance, yes, but a pity all the same. _

_Still lovely. Still compelling. _

_His father had not had the right to touch her, never should have been allowed near her. Garan had been crude, too coarse to appreciate the intelligence, the strangeness and superior qualities of this woman. He had not deserved to almost be allowed to break her. _

_The human deserved to touch her even less. At least his father, low-brow and lacking in vision as he'd been, had been the Jehnz-yin First General. _Some_thing. What was the human? Nothing more than an inconvenience, really. An inconvenience that by tomorrow would no longer be a problem._

Shasta sat straight up at the edge of her bed, horror creeping down her spine. He planned to dispose of Chakotay. Gerros planned to kill him simply because he was an inconvenience.

He was nothing like her. Garan's blood truly filled every inch of Gerros's Jehnz-yin veins.

Her hearts pounding, she debated getting up immediately and checking to see if Chakotay was back yet. But if she did, would she miss something else that was crucial knowledge? And would Kathryn be all right, left on her own?

She couldn't leave Kathryn, she decided. Not yet. Not until she was absolutely sure… She closed her eyes, attempting to calm her roiling insides, her stomachs especially. She was sure the sharp pains would subside once she relaxed again.

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

"What the hell is he _doing_, Ellizas?" His voice was relatively quiet, considering the clamoring that was going on inside of him as Chakotay asked the question for the hundredth time. His fists clenching and unclenching as he sat, debating with himself about whether or not to take the chance of rushing the man holding him in this room. "What is Xi doing with the captain?"

"Nothing that need concern you now, Commander." Ellizas checked his timepiece again, surreptitiously wiping the sweat from his knobby brow with the back of his sleeve. "It's too late to stop it, anyway."

His heart wouldn't take much more of this, Chakotay acknowledged inwardly as it stopped once again in his chest. He wasn't exactly young anymore.

And he decided this standoff was over upon hearing those words. Whatever Xi could want with Kathryn in a private room without him present was worth risking his life to try and stop if there was a remote chance of getting to her. Sitting idly by and allowing it to happen –whatever _it_ was – was no longer an option. He stood, heedless of the warnings he'd been given to remain seated and took a single step forward. Upon Ellizas's raising of the fierce-looking energy weapon, daring him to continue, Chakotay exploded with impotent frustration, "_Damn it_, will you at least tell me what's going on?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to!" the aide finally broke and snarled, the pretense of calm shattered like so much glass as his grip tightened compulsively on the trigger mechanism. "She will not be killed, but there are no such orders pertaining to _you_!"

Chakotay's face twisted in contempt, in resolution. "Then shoot me, Ellizas. Shoot me now, where I stand, because I'm not going to wait here quietly while Xi carries out whatever twisted objectives the two of you have concocted."

"I had nothing to do wi–"

A thunderous pounding on the doors interrupted the increasingly tense standoff.

"Open the door!" a furious feminine voice ordered through the thick metal separating its owner from the room.

"Not, now, Nyra!" Ellizas hissed to himself, gesturing menacingly with his weapon when Chakotay looked ready to dart forward against the distraction.

"Damn you, Ellizas, I know you're here," the voice continued to shout. "You're the only one who could have sent the guards away. Open the door!"

The pounding continued as the aide muttered a vehement expletive under his breath. "Step back," he snarled, though Chakotay had gotten no closer than one out of at least fifteen paces between them now.

He took a half pace back, only enough to have noticeably followed directions to the letter, watching as Ellizas yanked the small unknown device from the doors and then unlocked them.

"What does she want?" Chakotay demanded, sensing the obvious change in Ellizas's mood might be used to his benefit.

"No doubt the same thing you do," the man muttered cryptically. "Just for very different reasons."

It was as much as he managed to get out; he was practically bowled over by the physician as she sprung into the room. Physically shoving him back several steps, Nyra furiously launched herself at her brother in a whirl of more energy than Chakotay had ever observed in the prim, snide woman.

"Do you know he has her in his chambers as we speak?" she almost screeched. "He sent the guards outside. You _know_ what that means!"

"He's only talking to her, Nyra," Ellizas muttered, careful to keep his eye on Chakotay over her shoulder. It was difficult with his attacking fury of a sister dogging his every slight movement.

"Don't lie to me! I'm not stupid." She threw a furious glance over her shoulder, barely noticing Chakotay standing at weapon point…around her. "And what have you been doing this whole time? I told you that idiot captain of the Guard is with us, didn't I? The ship is ready. All you had to do was get them there…"

"And how was I to do that when I've been ordered to watch him in here while he took Janeway with him?" the aide hissed back.

Chakotay eyed the open door. He had no idea what the two were arguing about, but the physician had said that the guards were no longer there. If Nyra turned Ellizas just a few centimeters in either direction, she would cover his position with her body long enough for him to spring for the halls. He could make it to one of the statues decorating the long austere corridors…

"There is no arguing with him, you know this, Nyra," Ellizas gritted, finally shoving his sister away from him. "And will you watch out for the monitor?" He pointed directly above him, and she actually stopped, seeming aware of where she was for the first time.

He was halfway to the door. Another six or seven steps and he'd be clear…a shot rang out across the room, striking the ground just in front of him. Nyra shrieked. Charred pieces of some kind of granite exploded upward, forcing Chakotay to throw an arm up to shield his face from flying bits while springing back from the heat of the energy. He gave a muffled cry as bits of grit and sharpened rock tore through his clothing into his skin just as Nyra began berating her brother in an untypically shrill voice.

"Are you _daft_? You almost shot m–"

"Will you both _shut up_!" Ellizas roared, grabbing his sister's arm and shaking her to calm her. "I'll explain. But until the monitor is neutralized, I can't do much of anything."

Chakotay glanced up in confusion, for the first time catching on to what the two were discussing. A monitor? In this room? Another thing he should have known, he thought disgustedly as Ellizas turned to him. He lowered his arms to find that several pieces of sharp rock had penetrated the fine material of his rough cut Jehnz-yin vest as well as the sleeves of the jacket over it as Ellizas growled, "The bed, Commander! I won't tell you again."

He paused, lowering his arms to his side. Weighing his options. They were limited. The man was too good a shot, and that weapon was not set to stun. From the intensity of the heat he'd jumped back from, the thing was laser-powered. No stun setting. Not for the Jehnz-yi. And he'd moved Doctor Benn too far out of range for her to provide any more cover. Damn it.

Glaring at Ellizas with smoldering intensity, Chakotay had little choice but to obey. He watched Ellizas reattach the device to the doors and simultaneously set about picking the sharp bits of the floor out of his torn clothing and skin and forced himself to wait for a better opportunity. Or the chance to make one for himself. He would get to her. They couldn't keep him here indefinitely.

* * *

**Part IV**

* * *

"My God."

The figures were staggering. Janeway sat in the seat he'd adjusted for her at his magnificent desk, the monitor displaying chart after chart of graphs he'd just explained. She was having difficulty believing what she was seeing. The curve in blue indicated the total number of recorded births on Ghanza Prime in the past ten years at the top. Below that, the curve in green indicated the number of births registered as "incidental", the quaint phrase used in Jehnz-yin society for a child borne of an Oncaveat slave to a Jehnz-yin "master". Far below both lines, not nearly far enough above the zero line, was a patheticly downward, slanted line in yellow. As Gerros had just informed her, this was the indicator line of fully Jehnz-yin children born in the last decade.

Softly, his voice carried over her shoulder in the otherwise silent study. "Only one in eight conceptions of a Jehnz-yin to Jehnz-yin match produces healthy offspring. At least fifty percent never make it to term, and the rest are now being born with such obvious defects that euthanasia is often the kindest course of action."

Janeway had to force herself to contain the bile that rose within her at the thought of this level of what, in her culture – in most cultures she'd ever encountered – amounted to infanticide. She had to swallow hard at the heartbreaking image that unwittingly came to mind, reminding herself fiercely, even as the horrified tears sprang to her eyes, that Jehnz-yin medical abilities were not nearly up to Federation standards.

When a moment had passed and she could be certain of at least somewhat containing her reaction, she turned and found him standing right behind her, a more somber expression on his face than she'd yet seen from him. "Ch…Gerros, this is…" But the words wouldn't come to her, no matter how hard she willed them to, and she trailed off into sickened silence.

"My race is dying out." He said the words for her, sparing her the trouble of having to come up with delicate phrasing to convey the harsh truth.

She could feel the anguish coming off of him in waves. Not that she could blame him. For there was no question about it: if those graphs were even mostly accurate, there was no way the Jehnz-yin people could renew a healthy population without drastic measures being taken. No natural remedy would fix this now. She swallowed again with difficulty, her mouth already dry. "But…surely your scientists have been working on a solution? This can't be something no one has noticed all this time!"

The answer was predictable by the sad shake of his head. "Unfortunately, the same narrow-minded view of previous governments that allowed this problem to develop over centuries has similarly restricted the acknowledging of the problem, and as such, the drive to fix the problem. And our sciences are not as advanced as yours. I have done much to encourage its development, as well as the development of our medical community, to some result. But it's not enough – not nearly enough. It has come too late to avoid the catastrophe hanging over us now."

Kathryn could only shake her head as she tried to reason a solution to the catastrophic problem she'd barely scratched the surface of. "And you're certain that it's this weakening of the genetic pool that's causing the decline of healthy births? It couldn't be environmental?"

"Until perhaps half a century ago, it was considered preferable to marry a close blood relative as opposed to an unrelated individual. To keep the strength running through the family," he laughed bitterly. "Fools we have been, this I will readily admit. We bred for strength, virility, and stamina in battle…little else. No," he shook his head in disgust, "if you compare any Jehnz-yin genetic profile to another's, no matter where each is from, you will see the results are the same. There is simply not enough genetic diversity in us anymore. The defects are written into our genetic code, so strongly ensconced that it would take a miracle of scientific intervention to route them all out. We have one hope, and our science will not be what cures us."

Then, before she could even properly digest what she'd just learned, his expression took an eerily elated turn, and Janeway realized as the sickening sensation of dread spread through her insides that the other shoe was about to drop. Swallowing again, again futilely, she managed, "And what does this have to do with the Oncaveat and your plans for them?"

But she'd already worked it out, despite not wanting to believe it was true. She just had to hear him say it, now…

"Did you not see that second graph, Kathryn? Did you not see how the answer is already written out so clearly in the study?"

Her head began to shake slowly back and forth as she took in his words but her inner soul rejected their meaning. There was no possible way he could seriously consider this course of action. It was unthinkable. Gripping the chair back for support, she clambered to unsteady feet, leaning heavily against it. "They will _never_ agree to what you're suggesting," she whispered, her voice a harsh rasp of disbelief. "And what you're proposing is no better than what your military has been doing all along."

"That's where you're wrong. My facility is well constructed." She huffed a dry laugh, still shaking her head. He continued as if she hadn't. "They will have adequate shelter and enough food to eat. Medical attention. Think about it, Kathryn. Under the military, they were harassed, defiled and routinely murdered. Terrorized. Under my new program, they will be treated humanely. They will have the glory of helping to secure the future of the mighty Jehnz-yin empire. And instead of killed for inconveniently producing offspring, they will be handsomely rewarded for each child conceived and brought to term. The more children, the greater the rewards. Compared to the conditions of many house slaves or former military captives simply dumped on the streets, they will be clean, well fed and warm. They'd be fools not to accept my proposal."

She found she could only stare at him with mouth agape for long moments, until it became clear that he actually believed the nonsense he was spewing. And she began, for the first time, to wonder if the chancellor was truly in his right mind. "You can't think for a moment that any Oncaveat you approach will want to participate in some kind of…massive breeding project. They won't do it."

His expression never flickered. His dark, convex eyes glowing with a strange light as they fixed on hers. "They won't have a choice," was the simple response.

And there it was. Her answer, to so many things, really.

"I can't be a part of this, Gerros. I can't just continue advocating…that," she spit. "I _won't_ advocate it. It's _wrong_."

"I'm so very sorry you feel that way. It's most disappointing. Though I can't say I'm entirely surprised." He took another step toward her. As his eyes never did waver from hers, Janeway clearly saw the anger at her rejection in them; they smoldered as he approached. His voice, however, was eerily calm. "But I'm afraid that you don't have a choice, either, my dear. You _will_ continue to aid me in my endeavors to save my people. I cannot allow you to act otherwise. There is a larger plan for you than I've yet revealed."

Her cane was missing. He saw her looking all around the room for it and seemed to know what was on her mind. "I had the guards remove it for you. So it wouldn't get in the way."

"Get in the way of _what_?" Her voice was strangled as she tried to gage his demeanor. His intentions with continuing to approach her. She didn't like his nearness, and she certainly did not like the limits the lack of support put on her mobility now. Particularly with the turn the conversation – and his mood, which she couldn't read – had taken. Reaching out behind her, she felt for the flat surface of the desk, feeling her composure just a hair closer to slipping than it had been only a moment ago. "I don't think you understand me," she stated, edging backward along the wide desk and acutely aware that for each step she took, he took one, too. "There is no more plan. At least not one I can participate in. A larger role in your plan is certainly out of the question."

"What is out of the question, Captain, is your romantic alignment with your former first officer."

Her mouth dropped open at the abrupt change in topic. "I've told you at least twice now. There IS no romantic alignment between us. We're just–"

"DON'T. Lie to me!" His thick, clawed fist slammed down on the edge of the desk, and she jumped at the thunderous level of his roar. "I won't stand for it! I _saw_ the way he held you. You honestly think me fool enough to believe that that little appraisal of your appearance and the way he held you to him were the actions of a friend? I saw you join mouths with him!"

"What are you…?" Her mind was racing, trying to think clearly about where he was and what he was saying at the same time. "Have you been _spying_ on us? How could you possibly know that?"

"It is enough that I know. I know that you've lied to me. And that is unacceptable. It cannot go unaddressed."

"_It_…is none of your business!" she shot back incredulously, wondering why her voice sounded so small echoing in the large, spacious study that nonetheless seemed far too tiny as she continued to back away from him. What else had he seen in that room? "It's not for you to address at all."

"But I'm afraid it is. I cannot allow my life mate to consort with others so intimately. It would bring dishonor not only upon her but especially upon me."

He truly was out of his mind. How hadn't she seen this before?

Janeway's voice was a deadly monotone. "I don't know what you're talking about, Chancellor, but I can't see that we're getting anything more accomplished here. You've told me your plans with regard to the Oncaveat, and until you alter them, I can't and won't help you. I'd like to return to my room now. Please call your guards to take me."

"You're not going anywhere. You will sleep here from this night forward."

"The hell I will." She felt like she'd stepped directly into a nightmare, her worst one, in fact. But there was no waking up from this, was there? Not this time. "If you think that's going to happen, you're delusional. Call your guards, Chancellor."

"I don't think so."

Her heart skipped entire painful beats at his cold response. "_Why_?"

He knew what she meant. His smile was small but easy. Lazy, even. "Perhaps I think there is no one else worthy of being my life mate. Or perhaps...I simply find you irresistible. Have you considered that?"

"_No_." No, of course she hadn't. She refused to consider it now. There had to be another reason. Anything other than that. Anything else, she could work with, reason against. "You want to increase your standing in the public eye again, don't you? That's what this is about." His eyes flickered; something had registered. She latched onto it with everything in her. "Yes, I noticed how they ignore you now. You don't like it. You want to make them like you again…notice you again. And you think the way to do that is through me, don't you?" She shook her head. "This isn't necessary to convince them of that." He remained entirely unimpressed. Still following her. Why could she not infuse her voice with enough steel, with the right amount of strength to make him listen? Why couldn't she breathe properly, think clearly? "It doesn't matter in the long run. I told you I won't help you anymore."

"And I have told you that you will," was the infuriating, utterly confident reply. So in contrast to her flat, almost breathy arguments. He shook his head. "It really is a shame you've chosen this path. But you needn't worry. I will be gentle…even if you have more than earned a fair amount of roughness with your inexcusable behavior of late."

Her mind went into overdrive, a thousand things occurring to her at once as the panic seized control of her breathing, making her chest tight and her vision dim. Even if she got away from him, where the hell was she supposed to run? Outside? His guards were standing watch. They wouldn't care. How had everything gotten so out of control so quickly, without her noticing? Why had she allowed herself to be put in this position? Why had she agreed to meet with him here in the first place?

Stupid. So unbelievably stupid…

She was out of desk space. Any steps she could take backwards were going to be slow and awkward and inherently risky without any support whatsoever. Behind her, there was nothing but open space, and he was rapidly closing the scant space between the two of them. She had no choice. She took one step back, leaning heavily on her good leg, but when his pace increased, she took another step, and then another. Too quickly. The heel of the slightly too large shoe caught on an errant fiber of the plush rug beneath her, and she stumbled.

He caught her before she fell, his clawed fingers closing over her arms feeling like a death grip that effectively leeched the hope from her very bones. A flash of white blinded her beneath the blossom of panic until she ordered both to recede, demanded through the haze of her thoughts that her eyes cooperate and focus. They did, with difficulty.

"Let go of me." It was almost a whisper, a flat, disgusted command as other memories of this face and this voice assailed her again.

"If I don't?" He smiled grimly, his warm breath fanning over her face as he continued in a low, dangerous tone. "What then, Kathryn? Will you scream? I wouldn't advise it. No one will come to your aid. But they will come to mine, should I request it. I don't think you want that, do you? We can keep this between the two of us. Let's not allow things to get too far out of hand, hmm?"

His face was entirely too close, and his harsh features were drawn into a sickening leer as he righted but did not release her. When she was able to stand enough to pull away from him, his grip tightened further, the many lines and creases of his grey face tightening with his fingers. She stared at him. She didn't like the way he was looking at her, a combination of muted fury and…

No.

The grip on her arms wasn't being released. It almost didn't register, so complete was her shock and instinctive denial of reality as the horror crept over her, keeping her paralyzed. "You said you weren't like your father," was all she could whisper into the face entirely too close to hers.

His lips twisted, the first sign of anything but determination flashing briefly across the ghoulish features. Then his expression hardened again. "I am _not_ like my father. Do you think he could ever have conceived of a plan like this? It's brilliant, whether you or anyone else will acknowledge it or not."

He still made no move to release her. And she knew for certain in that one instant he had no intention of doing so.

* * *

**Part IV**

* * *

She had to get up from the bed, but the pains that were racing through her now were unbelievable. Her stomachs were in agony, cramping and twisting horribly. Shasta could barely breathe, so sharp was the pain. Nothing she'd ever experienced compared. And yet it still wasn't the primary reason she stumbled up from the bed and staggered, almost bent completely double, towards the door. Kathryn was in imminent danger, a hideous kind of danger Shasta could not sit by and allow to come to pass.

"_You know what I'm talking about, damn you." The fear on the face of the woman just in front of her was heartrending, and Shasta understood it, knew that this was a nightmare come to life reflected in Janeway's eyes, even if Gerros was half gratified by it. By having the strength and the power over her to have put that tremor in a normally calm, collected voice. "You said you weren't like him. You pretended to be upset over what he'd done, but you never cared, did you? You're _exactly_ like him!"_

Stars. Gerros was everything she'd feared he'd be and more. If there was anything of herself in this abhorrent creature whose thoughts she was forcibly sharing now, they were parts the Jehnz-yin half of him had warped and twisted to make him even more insidious. More dangerous. She took another step, her vision swimming as she alternated between the physical and the mental.

_Gerros's snarl was dangerous, portending a world of pain for the woman in his grasp. "If I were like him, you would already be in a broken, bloodied mess on the floor, my dear." He was slowly, very slowly turning her, backing her toward the desk again, his dark eyes glued to her face, searing over her as if memorizing her features. "I have no intention of treating you with such callous disregard. That would defy every purpose for your continued presence here." _

_Janeway stumbled again trying to resist the relocation. He simply lifted her so that only her toes scraped the ground, one of her shoes coming off as she tried unsuccessfully to regain purchase. He hardly cared, too intent in his actions, in his planned activities, but then her eyes widened in sudden new fear. "Where is Chakotay? What did you _really_ do to him?"_

_A feral smile made the amber light from the desk lamp glint in his pointed teeth, his image reflecting back at him in Janeway's shining eyes. "He is being otherwise entertained this evening. By tomorrow, he will no longer be a problem."_

_An image of the serving girl, Bimmah. The green pastries Gerros had watched the commander consume, the ones he knew from repeated observation Kathryn couldn't stand and never touched. A thrill of triumph, of evil satisfaction. It was what the commander deserved._

Shasta hit the floor just short of the door, the knowledge that she had just gleaned from her unwanted offspring thudding her hearts into an insane, uncontrollable rhythm as her physical eyes found the single remaining tart on the side table by her bed. So innocuous looking. Still fresh. She could smell the light, refreshingly fortifying filling in it now…

Full realization of what the sharp pains were hit her, even as they continued to shoot through her. Even so, the pain was the least of her concerns as she now knew it had probably only just begun.

She felt Xi's head snap up in shock.

_He felt her. She felt him feel her, felt him come aware of her presence in his mind. Felt the instant well of rage springing at her presumption. At her interruption. The contempt she leveled at him meant nothing whatsoever to him and was, in fact, returned to her tenfold. _

_He despised her, had always despised her for abandoning her own child to the likes of Xi. Even as he'd understood, through the link he'd used to spy on her, that it hadn't been her choice, that she hadn't known he'd survived, he still blamed her for it. He always would. The Oncaveat didn't deserve to have children. At least _his_ people cared for the half breeds they sired from the Oncaveat, folded them into the ranks of their society…all of this was inherently felt, recognized in the back of Xi's mind, even if none of it fully formed into coherent thought. _

_He felt her strange, resolute desperation, and it bothered him. Her sense of higher purpose. __His eyes followed the senator's to the pastry on the table by her bed, her knowledge becoming his as he grew privy to her thoughts. And then he, too, fully understood what he had done. _

_Gerros's rage receded as he realized he'd failed to note that at least one other person in those rooms was fond of that particular kind of pastry. In his haste to rid himself of one inconvenience, he hadn't thought to take notice of whether or not the senator liked those tarts, also. All he'd cared to learn was that Janeway never touched them. _

_His grip slackened without thinking. He felt Janeway pull away from him, but Gerros was unconcerned. He'd catch her in a moment. Soon enough. _

_He smiled – Shasta felt him smile. _

_It was an unexpected, but not unwelcome, turn of events. Now, he would have _two_ less problems to deal with._

"_It will be painful, but it will be swift. I promise." _

_His last words to her, spoken aloud before he snapped the link and turned to approach his real quarry, who hadn't gotten far – as he'd known she wouldn't._

* * *

End note: And with that, I do believe I can now say this really is…the very _last_ time I'm going to do this to you all (torture you, that is). And I think I'm going to miss it, actually.


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one.

**Chapter Rating**: T

**Note**: Huge, huge thanks to Cheshire, whose beta efforts in this chapter were invaluable!! It's long, but I promised no more cliffhangers.

Chapter Thirty-Three

"_It will be painful, but it will be swift. I promise."_

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

The words he'd just so callously uttered behind her made Janeway's heart stop beating in her chest. It was confirmation of her worst fear – what _should have been_ her worst fear at the outset of this ill-fated meeting. Xi was going to kill Chakotay.

Of course he was. He wouldn't tolerate what his delusional mind saw as a rival indefinitely, would he?

"You don't have to do this," she urged, even as she continued stumbling further away from him. "You don't have to hurt him. There's no reason for it!"

Gerros's words only reiterated how little remorse he had for the decision he'd made. "The course of events has already been set in motion. I didn't intend for you to realize his life would be a sacrifice for the greater good. But I'm sure you'll manage to reconcile it, along with your new role here." His voice was drawing nearer all the while. Too near.

Kathryn was halfway across the room now. If she could just get to the doors opposite, she could barricade herself on the other side of them…

She wouldn't make it that far.

She'd somehow twisted free of his grip and managed to get some distance between them, but not enough. She'd known it wasn't enough, and as his hands closed over her arms again from behind, she flinched, trying to tear away, but it did nothing to get him to release her, and she hadn't expected it to. Janeway felt her composure slipping rapidly with the added dimension of the chancellor's abhorrent touch. This was everything she'd worked to convince herself wasn't going to happen, the hideous dreams she'd been battling back each night coming to life around her now. She hitched in a breath through the strong catch in her lungs; they didn't want to work properly anymore.

"You said your people didn't believe in this," she tried, a last ditch effort at appealing to something, anything decent within him. To get him to rethink what he was doing. "You told me you didn't believe your father had the _right_ to do this!"

"He didn't." The answer sounded surprised as his hands easily held her in place in spite of her struggles. "My father wasn't the supreme ruler of the Jehnz-yin Empire. I am. And therefore what I want…anything I want…is mine by rights."

"No. It isn't. You're _worse_ than your father," Kathryn half snarled back at him, pure fear feeding her contempt when she failed to break free of his piercing clawed grip. "At least _he_ never had to hide his intentions behind deception and deceit!"

"And that makes me worse than him?" He made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a snort, and she felt the sharp exhale billowing over the hair on the top of her head with deep chills of revulsion. "I rather think it makes me more intelligent. Unlike my father, I acknowledge and assess potential threats. And unlike my father, I eliminate those threats before they can cause any permanent damage. Believe me, Kathryn, I am the general's superior in _every_ way."

Janeway was still squirming and bucking to free herself, despite knowing it was utterly futile. She tried one last time to appeal to his pride. "You have no more honor than he did if you can consider doing this – any of it!"

The last comment obviously struck a cord. "Careful, my dear," the Jehnz-yin chided softly, dangerously, the grip on her arms tightening and hauling her roughly back against his too-solid chest. His mouth hovered somewhere near her ear, his breathing heavy, both sending additional shudders of revulsion through her. "I don't take kindly to being insulted. Not even by a _goddess, _such as yourself."

Realizing it hadn't worked, she'd all but tuned him out. If she'd been in any other frame of mind, the lilt of sarcasm in his voice would have been infuriating, but her thoughts were no longer on his tone or even his intentions, which were clear enough from his actions. There was no longer any doubt about what was happening here – what was going to happen. It was already too late for her. Kathryn's mind was now entirely focused upon what was going to happen to Chakotay when Xi was finished with her – maybe even before he finished with her.

Her lapse in judgment was going to cost Chakotay his life.

Yet again, Xi seemed able to read her too well, even in silence. "You will adjust to his absence," Gerros assured her, his tone callously certain as he spun her to face him. His too-dark eyes razed her face, her form, his rasping breath growing heavier as he studied her physical features. "In time, you won't even remember what he looked like." One hand left her arms, rough grey knuckles grazing the side of her face. "I can help you with that."

He believed it, too, she realized, staring in disbelief at his satisfied, possessive expression. Janeway barely acknowledged that he'd begun dragging her back towards the desk, her mind caught on that one absurd statement. The chancellor believed he could simply step into Chakotay's place in her affections, believed that she would be brought to accept this abhorrent turn of events with _time_.

His offensively cock-sure smile flashed in front of her face, catching at her attention with the striking resemblance it bore to the late general's sneering visage. "You needn't look so terrified, Captain. I intend to be as gentle as possible. The experience is meant to be pleasurable for the both of us, and if you'll only relax, I think you'll find I'm as competent in the art as your commander was. Probably a great deal more so, in fact."

And though meant to reassure her in some sick way even while lording his power over her, Xi's confident taunts instead broke through some hidden barrier within her, tipped the scales away from fear and panic, pouring them into pure loathing.

And she was furious with herself, even through the hatred she felt towards him. Why hadn't she asked about Chakotay when she'd realized what Xi's intentions were toward her? It should have been the first thought to enter into her head the moment she'd determined that the entire evening had been about separating the two of them; her first thought in any dangerous situation was for the safety of those around her, always. It was supposedly ingrained in her.

Apparently, that wasn't the case anymore, she realized bitterly. Was she such a broken, pathetic mess that she no longer had a thought for anyone's life before her own, even Chakotay's? Was _this_ how she was going to live the rest of her life, now – like some helpless, programmed victim in a state of perpetual fear? A fear that so paralyzed her, she'd already accepted the inevitability of Xi's victory over her without giving real resistance?

Even if she was, there was more at stake in this battle than her own well being. Chakotay was in real, imminent danger, and her lack of sufficient recovery from the first ordeal had helped put him there.

Her feet had been trying to dig into the carpet, dragging, hindering their progress towards the desk, slowing them down. He'd noticed.

"You're making this harder than it has to be," Xi rasped insolently, his hideously desire-laden eyes sparkling amusement. "I don't _want_ to hurt you, Kathryn, but if you keep this up, you're going to end up hurting yourself."

The nebulous stirrings of an odd set of emotions tightened her stomach as she was dragged closer to the desk… Anger. Disgust. Accepting defeat, allowing terror to overwhelm her simply wasn't an option anymore. That it ever had been, no matter how subconsciously, sickened her. Resolution. Pride. Her head dropped back, her chin tilting up to regard her adversary as the strange, various tendrils of things separate gathered together, congealing, forming a single, stronger entity inside of her. Something familiar sparked within her. Determination. Sheer force of will. She wasn't aware of her spine locking into the rigid, commanding line that had been so deeply ingrained within her. She had no concept of the way strength seemed to pour through her limbs, carried through her veins, infusing every part of her. She had no idea of the way her eyes flashed up into the face of her tormentor, long ago having fused in identity with the other Xi in her mind.

Kathryn only knew that this _wasn't_. _Going_. _To_ _happen_. Not to her, and not to Chakotay – not without one hell of a fight first, it wasn't.

As she continued to try to hinder their progress by any means possible, she searched frantically around her for a weapon, but she found nothing. Absolutely nothing. She'd waited too long to try, had waited too long to seek the advantage in this one-sided confrontation between them. She was almost over the desk again, almost leant entirely backward over it…

Her hands had been futilely trying to pry his titanium grip loose from her arms, and realizing it fully for the first time, Janeway could have kicked herself. As if all of her training, years of experience hadn't taught her not to waste crucial energy pitting strength against strength when she was so clearly outmatched in the category.

His eyes, his face were what were vulnerable to her attack now – and hopefully, at least one other place.

"Normally, I would try to be discreet," he was mumbling. "But under the circumstances, I think a bit of showmanship is in order. To make our liaison public."

Whatever he was talking about, it didn't matter, she decided as a clawed thumb stroked the side of her neck and she let go of his arms to free her hands. His face loomed over hers for an instant, and then teeth latched onto her neck, sunk deep into powdered flesh and tissue, drawing blood and a pained and furious cry from her, but the death lock of his strong jaw didn't disengage, only strengthened in response as her shoulders were pinned to the desk.

The burn was incredible, as bad as she remembered, other memories surging hideously into her consciousness, reminding her of why this was what had become her worst fear. It still wasn't enough to break her newfound determination; she couldn't let it be. Through revulsion and fury comingling, Kathryn reached up, feeling for the top of his hairless head to find her mark, raking her own nails over sensitive skin, digging unremorsefully into his eyes as best she could access them.

A howl of surprised rage got her free as he reared back, and that was enough space to get the leverage required for her knee to aim at an even more sensitive area. Janeway rammed her good knee up as far and as hard as she could just as the side of a solid fist caught the edge of her jaw, slamming her head sideways into the desk. Her blow wasn't as hard as she'd intended as small bursts of white-hot pain exploded in her skull, but her knee had found its target. Kathryn scrambled to raise herself up from the desk as Xi sank to his knees on the floor, cursing her nonstop while waves of pain assailed him.

It wasn't enough, she assessed as she fought for purchase along the smooth, polished surface of the desk. It wasn't enough to keep him away from her for long. She needed something, could not allow herself to be pulled down onto that floor with him without a weapon, but she'd already ascertained that there wasn't one. His hand closed around her ankle and she was being dragged off the desk in spite of her efforts to dig into its smooth surface…

And the side of her hand grazed the desk lamp. She grabbed onto it, held on for dear life. It was heavy, scraping along the surface of the desk as Xi yanked her towards him with such force that she was nearly thrown to the floor. His snarling face – the face she had grown to fear more than any she'd seen before and now to hate with equal passion – came squarely into her vision. He was wild, enraged. Blood poured from a deep set of gouge marks in his left eye deeper than on his right. As she fell towards him, closer to that enraged face, Kathryn used every last ounce of strength she had to bring the heavy lamp down onto the side of his head with her fall, feeling her arm give way in the process as the bulky object struck something hard. His skull. There was a mewling, blood-curdling howl cut abruptly short at the end of the blow, and then the grip on her released while she watched his hideous, demonic eyes roll back in his head.

He slumped back on the floor, unconscious. No longer a threat.

For the moment.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

He'd already surveyed every inch of his surroundings, knew what lay with reasonable reach and what didn't. While the two Jehnz-yi argued in furious whispers by the door, he glanced over the table by the bed again. Odd that they'd decided on tonight to suddenly start delivering food twice a day instead of once. His rage sweltering, he wondered if it was Xi's sick idea of compensation for whatever had Kathryn separated from him right now.

What he would not do, could not do and maintain sanity was consider the reasons Xi had decided to separate them. It was enough that he _had_ separated them, and that Ellizas thought whatever was happening between the two right now bad enough to warrant his pity. Pity from a Jehnz-yin. He wouldn't be so terrified if she wasn't still healing, he told himself. Under normal circumstances, Kathryn Janeway could damned well take care of herself. For the most part, he trusted that about her because he had to. Because it was the only way to maintain his sanity. So he'd learned over the years to trust, to put his faith in her ability to walk directly into the heart of danger and come out little the worse for wear.

But she wasn't herself, not yet, and he didn't know if she would be able to defend herself this time. He didn't know if she had it in her yet. He only knew he couldn't take the chance that she didn't.

Chakotay swallowed past the burning sensation in his throat, not the slightest bit hungry but pretending to study the evening's offering. There was a blunt sort of butter knife that would do him no good whatsoever. Nowhere on the utensil was a point or edge of any kind in evidence. But the three-pronged utensil used for lifting the delicate, breaded fare…

He glanced up through downcast eyelashes. Ellizas was still watching him closely. Occasionally, he looked away for a second or so at a time – no longer. And wherever the monitor was in the room, Chakotay's actions would be visible from it, he was fairly certain. But there was the chance he could palm the instrument unnoticed, and chances were all he had.

Ellizas looked away again, and he moved.

"What are you doing?"

Chakotay lifted his hand from his side and his eyes from the table, the picture of surprised innocence. Jerking his head toward the serving platter, he slowly reached over and lifted a warm, crusted tart from the tray. "Do you mind?" he asked evenly. "I didn't eat much at the banquet. The food doesn't agree with me."

Somewhat suspiciously, the aide finally shrugged. "If you must." He turned back to Nyra, who was only staring at him with contempt, but Chakotay wasn't content to let the two of them whisper indefinitely. Not when he needed a bargaining chip to secure his escape from this room.

"Doctor." He waited until she glanced over at him again, annoyed that he'd had the gall to interrupt her. He smiled thinly. "Since you're here – why are you here, again?"

"I had things to discuss with my brother," was the haughty reply.

Brother, eh? Good, Chakotay thought grimly. Even better. When he took her hostage, Ellizas would definitely comply with his demands rather than let his sister be harmed. "Well, I was going to say…since you're here…would you mind doing your job and taking a look at this?" He gestured down at the bleeding bits of skin poking through the holes decorating his vest and sleeves. "That is, unless I'm already officially expendable?"

Nyra turned back to her brother, quirking a superior brow. She looked shocked when he nodded.

"She'll see to you in a minute," Ellizas grunted. To her, he elaborated, "It does no good if he walks around bleeding all over everything."

"I don't have my supplies," was the scathing excuse.

"You'll do what you can without them," the aide suggested. His eyes returned to Chakotay, who had yet to give any indication of moving since he'd selected the pastry in his hand.

In no way, shape or form was he even remotely interested in eating anything; it would be a chore to keep it down, but it would look suspicious now if he didn't. He had to be patient, he forced himself to remember, calming his nervous stomach through force of will. Patience would get him out of this room a hell of a lot faster than impatience and recklessness. With an exaggerated lift of his brows, Chakotay held up the pastry for Ellizas's scrutinizing eyes and bit into it just as the innocuous device on the door bleeped loudly, its mechanism glowing a brilliant green and drawing everyone's attention.

Ellizas visibly sagged in relief. "Commander, Nyra," the aide opened, lowering his weapon at last. "Forgive me, but I had no other option until the scrambler worked out the correct frequency for the monitor." His voice had changed considerably: tone, cadence, volume. Everything about his demeanor differed from what he'd displayed thus far. "Allow me to explain what I'm–"

"_No_! Chakotay! _Spit it out_!"

Chakotay nearly choked on the grassy mouthful he'd just begun to chew, turning in shock at the shrieked, barely intelligible command from the doorway to the room Shasta Accor usually slept in.

The senator stood in the open frame, hugging the side of it, bent over as if in pain. Her mouth was streaked in deep green liquid, the blood spattered down the front of her simple Jehnz-yin tunic and streaked through her long milky hair. In utter shock, Chakotay rose, his jaw once again moving to chew the contents of his mouth, preparing to swallow hastily when she opened her mouth again, and he saw that the entire inside of it was also stained deep green.

"No," she croaked, shaking her head as she stumbled forward on unsteady feet, one arm clutching her stomach and the other pointing to the confection in his hand. "Don't! _Poison_. The pastries…meant to kill you. Spit it…_out_!"

His heart thumping madly, Chakotay choked, forcing himself to stop midswallow and then promptly spat the half-chewed tart out onto the floor. Swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he was already rushing to the senator's side as a violent coughing spasm threw her to the ground, horrified at the way the dark green blood she coughed up spewed out of her mouth and onto the edge of the lush carpet under Kathryn's bed. He was no doctor, but the amount of it alone…the way her eyes were heavy-lidded and rimmed in a deep, bruising purple, the ghastly, pallid grey skin that was usually a warm tawny beneath the light fur…all of it was indication of serious injury.

"What happened, Shasta? How do you know…?"

"Ate…some," she replied through the cough as he trailed off beside her. "He didn't know I…liked them, too."

"He, who? What's going on here? What happened to you?"

"Step back, Commander." The cool, authoritative tone of Nyra's voice called his attention to the doctor where she now stood looking down on them.

Chakotay's head shot up questioningly as another coughing fit wracked the small frame of the woman beside him, but Nyra simply shoved him aside, kneeling beside the woman on the floor. Callously, the doctor pushed the senator onto her back, ignoring the expression of pain flashing over the Oncaveat features. "Open your mouth," she instructed coldly, one manicured hand on her impromptu patient's chin encouraging compliance. She peered intently into Shasta's mouth as soon as it opened. "Lift your tongue."

Shasta barely complied, to the interested murmur of the physician, when a sharp cry of pain tore free from her throat and the senator broke free of the doctor's grasp to cough up more of her own blood. Nyra gave a grimace of disgust, but her eyes were steadily widening all the while. She glanced up at her brother, who had joined the group huddled on the floor and shook her head.

"Did you know about this?" the physician demanded of her brother.

"No. What is it? What's happened to her?"

Nyra looked sharply to Chakotay next, but her eyes didn't latch onto his face. Instead, she reached out and took the hand still clutching the uneaten remains of the tart he'd been so close to consuming, prying it out of his hand. Bringing the pastry up to her nose, she inhaled deeply. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw working back and forth.

"Nyra?" Ellizas prompted at the strange reaction from his normally so-calm sibling. "What is it?"

"_Do_ something, Doctor," Chakotay growled over the aide as he leant closer to the agonized woman still coughing on the ground. He'd lost patience with the inactivity of the two in light of the suffering woman between them. "You have to help her!"

"Nothing can help her now, Commander," Ellizas mumbled, taking the baked good away from his own face, having inhaled the distinctive scent of it at his sister's urging. He looked stricken. Dumbfounded. "That's kixlar's folly. Even a tenth of a milligram is one hundred percent fatal. From the smell of that pastry…it's loaded with it." His eyes slowly came to rest on the woman now curled up into herself, her body undergoing agonizing contortions as she cried out with the pain seizing her insides. "There is no known cure. Death occurs within the hour, and once the bleeding begins, you have minutes or less…"

"It's poison," Nyra furthered needlessly. "The most insidious naturally-occurring agent on Ghanza Prime." She watched on as Chakotay tried to lift the woman's head from the cold floor, needing to do something, anything to help alleviate her suffering in some small way. "Being off-worlders, it's no wonder you didn't recognize its scent, but any Jehnz-yin knows to fear it from early childhood."

"There's _nothing_ you can do for her?" the commander demanded, his mind racing in disbelief, in anger at the intense, heartrending suffering of the woman he'd come to call friend these past few months. "Nothing at all? Can't you at least give her something for the pain?"

Nyra shook her head dispassionately. "By the time I could get to my supplies, it would be too late. She has a minute left, if that."

He dismissed the physician, too infuriated, too disgusted at her lack of emotion to address her further. "Shasta," Chakotay muttered, holding onto the head of the woman shaking violently in his lap. His right hand found one of hers, squeezing reassuringly. "_Who_?" Not that he needed to ask, really, but if she could confirm it… "Do you know? Can you tell me?"

A sharp wheeze of an inhale, a shaky nod preceding a cough. "Xi. He meant it…for you. I felt…his thoughts. Linked."

Chakotay nodded, understanding the stinted speech. "You linked with him. Like he's been doing to you."

They hadn't wanted to ask it of her, but he and Kathryn had wondered if Shasta would be able to do that. It seemed she could.

Coughing, retching up another rivulet of blood, she nodded. "He wants…her. Marking her. She was…fighting him."

Chakotay's eyes wanted to roll back in his head – at the stab of terror shooting through him upon confirmation of his worst fear.

A violent coughing spasm racked her again, her voice breathy and rattling with the fluid seeping into her destabilizing lungs. "I think…she knocked him out…can't…feel him…but if he…wakes…"

A horrid sound emitted from her throat then as she tried to draw in a wheezing, empty breath. Her grey eyes snapped wide open as her whole body stiffened, going rigid…

And that was it. Even before his fingers found her blood-spattered neck to feel for the pulse that no longer existed, he knew Senator Accor was dead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Futilely. Because there was nothing else he could do, he swept his hand over her still warm face, closing her eyes. For a brief moment, he bowed his head over her lifeless body, reciting a swift and silent blessing for her in his mind. Not knowing any of the customs of her people, he borrowed one from his own, but that was all the time he could afford to spare.

Nothing would help her now, as the Jehnz-yi had said, and his priority reverted immediately back to Kathryn – had to revert back. Chakotay shot to his feet, forcing the sorrow aside for a time when it wouldn't cost any more to acknowledge it. "Xi did this," he stated flatly, his dark eyes burning accusatory holes through the two siblings in front of him. "That poison was meant for me. _I_ was the one he intended to kill. And you _knew_ it," he spat. "Well? What are you waiting for, Ellizas?" He spread his blood soaked and injured arms wide, taking a step forward. "Finish the job you were supposed to do in the first place. Or can you only stomach poison, where you don't have to face your victims while you do it?"

Benn was shaking his head, astounded at the turn of events. "I never intended to kill you, Commander. And believe me, if I had known you were ordered to die, I would have argued against the decision. I wasn't informed…" At his sister's sharp stare, he set his shoulders, straightening. "Nyra and I have arranged for a way to get you and your captain off Ghanza Prime without the chancellor's knowledge."

Chakotay scoffed. "I don't believe you. Why should I? You've given me no reason whatsoever to trust you." He took another step, prompting Ellizas to reluctantly raise his weapon.

"It's true," the aide contested. "We were going to send you tonight. But I couldn't do anything once he announced his intentions to take Kathryn back with him to his rooms."

"And why would he do that, Ellizas?" Chakotay growled dangerously, still moving forward. "Hmm? Why would your chancellor want to meet with her alone?"

"You _know_ why," Nyra spat contemptuously, whirling on him in anger. "Don't pretend you don't know when it's plain as day he wants her. He's _obsessed_ with her. And it's made a laughing stock of both of us!"

The blood drained from Chakotay's face. It was true. He didn't even care to work out the rest of her statement, focusing only on that one crushing admission; it was true. They'd both known the chancellor's intentions.

"Damn you both," he swore softly, doing it with the look in his eyes alone. Whatever reason might have remained in his affect disappeared, and then his features fell into a hard, chiseled mask of stone. "I'm going to get her."

"You _can't_, Commander," Ellizas shook his head, looking at Chakotay as he would a small, overly enthusiastic child. "He'll–"

"I'm going to get her," Chakotay repeated in the exact same inflection, an identical tone of voice. "You can either help me find his room and get her out of there with me or shoot me, but I'm going to get her _now_."

He pushed physically past the aide, strode purposefully to the door. Waiting as he moved for the shot to fell him where he stood. When it didn't ring out, even when his hand fell on the door's locking mechanism and he input the code he'd worked out five weeks ago, he realized fully that it wasn't coming. And then he had no more thoughts for them, for the sharp pains in his arms and chest or even for the barely dead woman left behind on the floor. He was faintly aware of both Jehnz-yin falling into reluctant step beside him as he stormed through the halls, not even knowing where he was heading for certain. His only thought was getting to Kathryn.

He only prayed he would get to her in time to stop Xi's son from finishing the job had started nine weeks ago, when he'd set out to destroy Kathryn Janeway.

He didn't know what he'd do if he wasn't.

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

In the cargo bay, Yurros awoke screaming, wailing out as one enduring all of the tortures of the damned. It had happened. The link that had been silent for months had finally been severed the only way that it could be.

His bondmate was dead.

Abruptly awakened from his uneasy slumber by the distinctive cries no one wanted to hear let alone have to make, Senator Narrus rolled his legs over the side of his bunk, slipping off of it to gain unsteady feet in the dimmed lighting. He didn't need to question what those cries meant, knew upon hearing the first what had happened. And he didn't have to go to the source of those cries, he saw upon looking across the crowded bay who was making the heart-wrenching noise. A crowd of understanding supporters had already gathered around the despairing man, comfort-offering begun, the prayer circle forming to console him despite the unfortunate fact that he was the only one of his tribe remaining on this side of the rifts. There were no such petty distinctions among Oncaveat when one of them suffered what Yurros was suffering now. He'd just lost his bondmate, the intimate link that had made each one of them a part of the other had been forcefully severed by her death. It was a pain unlike anything else an Oncaveat ever experienced in his lifetime, and it had been known to break the remaining survivor when the break was unexpected, as it was now.

The frightened children who were still too young to understand that there could be only one source of such cries were already being quieted by their mothers or caregivers, and Yurros's cries were finally dimmed as he ran out of breath with which to make them. The anguished sounds fell off into a quiet moaning no less grief-stricken for the decrease in volume.

Narrus nodded sad approval of the consolers, tapping the communications device he had been given by the young woman assigned to be the Oncaveat liaison to the Voyager bridge officers. Even as the woman promptly answered in her usual polite tone, despite the hour, he'd slipped behind the makeshift screens that served as a dressing room and was exchanging his sleepwear for his normal clothes. Tersely, he explained that he had information the new captain would need to hear and assured her that he would be ready to accompany her to the bridge when the captain called to meet with him.

"It's concerning the senator we believe was with your captain and commander when they disappeared," Narrus added as he swept back into the main area of the room, motioning to his wife to join him, when she raised a wrinkled brow at him in question.

"I'll tell him now, Senator."

He had no doubt that she would. Nor was he surprised to have her comm. him back less than a minute later. "Senator Narrus?"

"Yes, Ensign?"

"Commander Tuvok will see you if you're ready."

"I am. How long will it take you to get–"

He trailed off as the doors to the cargo bay parted to reveal the young security officer striding through them. "Commander Tuvok will see you now," she repeated with a courteous nod of greeting. "If you'll come with me, Senator?"

* * *

**Part IV **

* * *

They tried to reason with him, to explain logical fact, which was that there was no way in hell he'd be granted entry into the chancellor's private chambers, especially not at this particular time of this particular evening. That he was more likely to be shot on sight than he was to get past the armed sentries that would be barring his way.

The human wasn't listening to a word they were saying.

"You'll have to kill him," Nyra finally whispered into her brother's ear as they half walked, half jogged down the long hall, Chakotay, absurdly, taking the lead. Absurdly, because he couldn't have any idea where he was going. She shook her head in disgust as they reached the first bend and the human violently shrugged her brother's hand off his arm when Ellizas attempted to physically guide the man in the opposite direction – the correct direction. Chakotay did turn, thankfully, but he refused to be touched. Apparently.

"This is absurd," she continued, her voice low as she kept pace with her brother. "He's insane. He'll get us _all_ killed. You have to stop him now, before this gets even more out of hand!"

Ellizas paused in his attempts to reason with the man in front of him, his voice equally low as he responded, "I can't just gun him down in the hall, Nyra! There's no way Janeway will cooperate if we do that. If you've learned nothing else about these two, it should be that."

"Then what in the six hells are we supposed to _do_? _Not_ kill him? Gerros _wants_ him dead!"

"I'll…" he swore under his breath, the pressure of the situation making him feel like his head was going to explode. "I'll stall him as long as I can," he decided aloud, pausing as they came up to another bend. Yes, that would buy time, but only a little. He could delay the commander's destination for a brief time. Just not indefinitely. Who knew what the unstable man would do if he discovered the ruse? Ellizas shook his head. "Go to your rooms," he directed his sister. "Get several sedatives in the easiest form to administer you've got. The left, Commander," he called louder as the human approached the junction just ahead of them.

At least he appeared to hear directions. Chakotay took the appropriate turn as Nyra shook her head furiously, still keeping up. "I'm telling you this is insane. Shoot him. _Now_. We'll find a way to rid ourselves of Janeway later."

"Much as we would both love to be rid of them for good, _you're_ the one who first warned me against doing it that way," he gritted through his teeth, still moving swiftly to keep up with their quarry. "Where would we hide the bodies? How would we dispose of them – and the evidence? It'll point to us, because the investigation into Janeway's death will be the most thorough you've ever seen. No," he hissed. "It must look like they escaped, with help from someone else or entirely on their own. Get the sedatives. I'll take him to the hidden entrance if I have to…we can still salvage this. I refuse to believe otherwise. But I may have to knock him out before you get there. If you can't get back in time, don't try and sweet talk the guards. They'll know better than to let you in without clearance, especially right now. Hide yourself outside the hidden passage and wait for me to come out."

He knew she wanted to argue. He could feel it in the energy radiating from her body in hot, angry waves. He didn't give her the chance. "_Go_," he growled, taking her arm and shoving her to the left more roughly than he'd dare under any other circumstances. "Right, Commander," he called out ahead of him as Nyra shot him a glare meant to scorch him where he stood. But she reluctantly turned and sprinted in the desired direction, and Chakotay took the appropriate turn, never once noticing what was occurring behind him.

* * *

**Part V**

* * *

She should have felt some sense of triumph, or at the very least, relief, she thought absently as she struggled to regain her breath. She didn't have time for those things. She didn't have time to realize that her objectives were being formulated for her, that her training had taken over halfway through this fight and was now carrying her through these emotionally charged moments. She had to get to her feet, to get out of this room. To find Chakotay and ensure that he wasn't in immediate danger. And then the two of them were going to get the hell off this planet. Or die trying.

And she had to do it before Xi woke up, before those guards came back in and found him here. Before they figured out what she'd just done.

Janeway struggled to her feet, confused about the way she swayed dizzily to either side in the process. Something wet was trickling down her neck, spilling into the skewed, slightly ripped neckline of her crimson dress. She brought her hand up to the source, her neck, surprised when her hand came away smeared in blood. The vicious bite the chancellor had taken out of her neck had hurt like hell, yes, but she hadn't felt her skin rip to the extent that it appeared to have. The adrenaline must have been blocking some of the pain from being felt. And none of that helped her find a weapon or a way out of this room, so the information was brushed aside even as the sticky fluid continued to accumulate on fingertips she absently pressed to the wound.

Xi hadn't moved. She kept him within her sight the whole time, having backed a safe distance away from him in case he should regain consciousness unexpectedly. He looked dead to the world, she noted. His crumpled position with legs bent askew couldn't be comfortable. When he woke, even if he wanted to feign continued sleep, there was no way he could maintain the position. She'd see him stir before he could help himself.

She still didn't allow her eyes to waver from him as she forced herself to make it back to the front of the desk. There, she began rummaging through the drawers for something, anything that could be used to hold him off. She met with no success. She'd have to try something else, but what? As he'd been pressing completely up against her, she knew for a fact that he was unarmed: searching him would yield nothing.

Damn it. She needed a weapon, even a makeshift one. If he awoke before she secured one – if the guards even returned before that happened…

The room was annoyingly bare for the private study attached to the chancellor's personal chambers, she decided. Her eyes lit upon the side table on the opposite side of the room, close to the door she'd been trying to reach the first time she'd broken away from him. It was a far walk without any support, yes, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that there was a pitcher of something set out on a tray much like those the refreshments set out in her room were served upon. And neither the tray nor the pitcher was what had made her heart skip that extra beat of hope; it was the two delicate, finely crafted wine glasses that did that.

Kathryn didn't spend time wondering if the chancellor had somehow expected her to be celebrating any one of the hideous plans he'd revealed this evening and if that was why there were two of them. She was already halfway there, only having to stop and steady herself once so far. The dizziness would have been distracting if she'd let it be; she didn't. Instead, she forced herself on, ignoring the automatically favored leg that threatened to give out at every half-sk**i**pped step and pushed onward to the table. And yes, she could see now, this might be exactly what she needed – if it would stop swaying dizzily in and out of focus long enough for her to take hold of it. Finally, it did. Her hand tightened around one cool stem. The only question that remained was whether or not the Jehnz-yi had developed (and still practiced) the art of glass making or if this was a more technologically advanced transparent aluminum alloy.

The top of the clear glass in her hand shattered on impact with the edge of the small table, answering the question for her. Her mouth curled up in grim satisfaction as she came out holding only the snapped off stem in her hand, the jagged edge of it satisfactorily sharp if not so steadily in focus.

Her hand closing over the edge of the small stand to support herself, Janeway gritted her teeth against the dizziness. The glass would do for now, until she found a way to secure a better weapon. Her next task was going to be to think of a way to get out of this room, past the guards dogging the entrance/exit. It was the part she was least looking forward to. She ran the greatest risk of being detained by those two guards, who'd probably known exactly what was supposed to be happening in this room and couldn't be expecting her to be in any condition to walk right out of it.

They would know that she shouldn't be appearing at those doors alone unless something had gone wrong on the other side of them. And she didn't much fancy her chances of overwhelming the two of them with just the instrument she now held curled securely in her fist, especially if they came in together. It didn't look good, to say the least. She could try to lure them inside, she mused. She could use something heavy and stun the first to enter…hopefully in time to disarm him before the second got through. But it wasn't going to be an easy task with this damned persistent dizziness. She clutched at the tickling trickle of liquid at her neck in annoyance, her mind working as swiftly as she could make it.

Unless…her head came up as a thought occurred to her. Was it possible there was another exit to these chambers? She almost dismissed the idea on first thought. Even if there was, it would most likely be guarded just as the one leading out into the main hall was…

No sooner had she had these thoughts than a scraping sound was clearly heard just beyond the doors closest to her, the doors she hadn't yet been beyond and that she had assumed led into the chancellor's bedroom. Just as she'd begun to be able to hear again past the pounding of her heart in her ears, the unmistakable sound of arguing voices were fast approaching her position just beside the doors.

Adrenaline surged through her, and Kathryn realized that she was encountering her next obstacle already. There was no way to hide herself in the sparse study before whoever it was reached her; she'd never make it to the desk in time. That left her with only one option, and it wasn't her preferred choice but would have to do. Flattening herself against the wall as much as possible, her eyes trailed over to Xi as the voices continued to draw near, and she grimaced. With the chancellor still splayed out on the floor like that it wouldn't take long for anyone to realize something had gone wrong. She would just have to hope the element of surprise would give her the momentum to disable whoever was on the other side of those doors. And then she would leave by whatever manner they'd managed to enter.

Or they would kill her. One of the two.

* * *

**Part VI**

* * *

They weren't in the bedroom; a thankful shudder roiled through him when one glance told him that. But until he saw where they were, and in what condition, had Kathryn safely separated from Xi by at least his own body, he wasn't stopping. Shrugging off the strong arms suddenly trying in earnest to restrain him, completely discounting the urgent voice still trying to reason with him, Chakotay tossed open the heavy set of doors in front of him and burst through them, calling out to her without a care for the fact that it was likely to warn Xi of his presence. In the frame of mind he was in, the Jehnz-yin chancellor would fare no better than General Xi had against him, warning or no.

"Kathryn!" he tried again, storming forward into what appeared to be some kind of study, but he was stopped cold just inside the doorway by the sight greeting him.

The chancellor lay on the floor in front of a huge polished desk, his limbs bent at grotesque angles and his large, knobby head a bludgeoned mess. The desk lamp that now shone a strange vertical beam of light at the ceiling lay on the floor next to him, but none of that concerned him in the slightest. Though Ellizas uttered a quiet cry and went straight to the fallen man, Chakotay's experienced eye zeroed in instead on the scattered few items on the desk and then drew back to the tiny dark spots on the cream-colored carpet at his feet. Spots that looked separated by a few small paces, spots that occasionally dripped into place one right beside the other, as if the source had rested briefly in one place before continuing on. Spots that were not quite black but red. No, crimson…_deep_ red. _Human _red. Fresh_._

The spots made a trail that lead right to the door, but as he turned to follow the trail through into the bedroom, he saw the line of spots veered off to the side, instead. But nothing was at the direct end of their path…

"Kathryn." It was a whisper this time as his heart pounded into his ears, causing a roaring there that blocked out everything else. He knew he shouldn't have waited. He knew he shouldn't have let Nyra's arrival stall his first resolution to spring for the hallway, knew Kathryn had needed him _then_, not thirty minutes later, damn it–

The door creaked aside as someone pushed it back to the doorframe, away from the wall.

"Chakotay. Thank–" A hoarse voice he'd recognize anywhere cut off in a shaky breath, its owner stepping tentatively out into the light. Her right hand clutching a shard of something clear and sharp being lowered to her side. "You're all right?" There was a breathless quality to the voice, but underlying the faint volume was a crisp authority he hadn't heard in it for some time.

It was a tone he automatically heeded. "Me?" He was so glad to see her, alive, walking towards him, that he had to take a full second to ponder the question. It took following the slight motion of her head indicating his chest and then looking down to realize what she meant. "Oh. It's nothing. It's worse than it looks," he murmured absently, having forgotten all about his earlier wounds. His eyes fused on her slowly emerging from around the heavy door before his trembling arm was enclosed in her small hand and he was gathering her into his embrace without a thought. "Are you all right? He didn't…?" He choked off, stopped abruptly as she came into better view, as he moved her further into the light where he could inspect her and saw the condition she was in. Would his heart _ever_ beat a normal rhythm again? He highly doubted it given the amount of times she seemed determined to make it stop beating in his chest.

"I'm fine."

He drew in a shocked breath, but she gave him no chance to question or comment further, falling into him and closing the embrace he'd begun. Leaning up, she put her mouth close to his ear, whispering, "We don't have time to swap stories right now. If you don't already know it, Xi wants you dead. I think he's already given the order. We have to get out of here now, while his aide is distracted and get to Shasta. Are there guards posted outside the way you just came in?"

She didn't know, he remembered at the mention of the senator. He drew in a breath, prepared to tell her everything, about the senator's horrid, unexpected death, about Benn's claims to want to help them off the planet, and most of all, to find out what the hell had happened to her in this room, what had made her neck bleed like that, had made the strong material of the neckline of her dress rip…to find out just how painful the last Xi's death would need to be in order to atone for it all…

A bustle of unexpected movement jostled them both as a determined figure strode through the open doors just beside them.

Nyra halted right in the middle of her furious stride upon sighting the spectacle on the floor. With a cry, she flung herself the rest of the way across the room, practically throwing herself down next to her fallen chancellor. "What the hell did she do to him?" the physician breathed, terrified as she shoved her brother's fumbling hands away to seek out a pulse.

"It looks like she hit him with the lamp," Ellizas answered tersely, his eyes finding the small woman standing across the room in her commander's embrace.

"I did." The captain pushed herself free of her first officer's arm, one hand again unconsciously going to her neck as she swayed slightly on her feet. She paid scant attention as the shard of glass she'd forgotten was taken from her hands and set aside by Chakotay, and her voice held no ring of apology, no hint of remorse. In fact, her eyes didn't so much as flicker as she met her accuser's gaze head-on. "The chancellor left me no choice."

"You _would_ have had to choose _this_ side wouldn't you?" Nyra murmured, ripping open her medical bag, which she'd dutifully collected at her brother's instruction. "This precise place. You bitch." It would have been a snarl but for the sheer concern in the normally gruff voice.

"I chose nothing. I had to act quickly in order to defend myself." Janeway waved her first officer back as he made a move to inspect the wound at her neck, shooting him a look that clearly said "not now".

"You could have killed him!" the physician snapped, working furiously over the felled man.

"I told you; he left me no choice."

"What is it Nyra?" Ellizas asked, still kneeling, still peering over the still form of his master. "Did she really manage to hit…?"

"Yes. A direct blow. Almost as if she knew."

"Knew _what_?" the captain demanded, aware of her first officer coming around behind her and taking up his usual stance just to her left. She was comforted by the gesture, having little knowledge of how comforting it was for him, as well. "What did I hit?"

"An old injury. When the chancellor was a child, his father split his skull one night in a drunken stupor. He barely survived," Ellizas explained tersely.

Despite everything, the idea of a child taking such abuse, even the child that had grown into the hideous creature she'd just had to fend off of her, had Kathryn unable to help asking, "_Why_?"

Nyra removed the top from a small green container she'd taken from her satchel of medical supplies, hastily dipping her fingers into the cream inside and swiping a generous amount of it. "He'd convinced himself it was the only way to test his boy's Jehnz-yin blood. To test his worthiness."

"And the two of you know this…how, exactly?" Chakotay inquired, though he wasn't entirely focused on the conversation, still concerned with the way the wound at Kathryn's neck continued to bleed, even oozing somewhat through her fingers.

"We grew up with him. He was our childhood friend," Ellizas replied, kneeling over the man in question.

His sister's answer was more thorough. "It was our house he fled to after each one of the general's many tests of fortitude. We are perhaps the only two people alive who have a clue that he shouldn't even be alive today."

"You're friends."

"The best he has ever had," Nyra bit back, hurriedly applying a strong-smelling compound to the swollen knot on the already knotted head. "We know him better than he knows himself."

The smell encompassing the room from the cream was familiar to Chakotay, who remembered well having been directed to lay this same compound over Kathryn's leg and head for two weeks running. The memory only intensified his distrust as he too keenly recalled the condition the general had left her in – especially given the condition she was in now due to the man on the floor.

"The break in his skull never fully healed. In some places, the bone is thinner than in others. You've fractured one of the old thinned sections. Congratulations, Captain. A little harder and you might have killed him."

"She was obviously defending herself–" A hand on Chakotay's chest stilled him, and as he glanced down in concern, he was surprised when Kathryn shook her head at him. _Not now_, her eyes were still telling him as she faced him. He frowned as she leaned into him, her voice a whisper.

"Are there guards outside the door you entered? Can we get out that way?"

"I think we can. But you're going to need medical attention before we go anywhere," he whispered back to her.

"Nyra. Can you fix it?" Ellizas's voice droned on in the background.

"Yes. It should be all right if I keep him sedated long enough to reduce the swelling. Then I can begin knitting the bones. And I'll admit it isn't entirely inconvenient, for all it could have killed him." A heavy, expectant silence filled the air as the physician injected the prepared syringe into the thick veined neck she'd just sterilized before raising her eyes to the questioning duo standing across the room. She continued speaking to her brother, however. "Our biggest obstacle in all this has been what to do when he called the Guard out after her, has it not?"

"Yes," the aide acknowledged. "It will be impossible to keep him from calling every ship out after her."

"Not anymore. He'll sleep until I wake him. In fact, it would be beneficial for his recovery to keep him sedated for at least several days. Possibly a week or more – but no one need know his coma is chemically induced. We can pretend to be waiting for him to wake naturally."

"It might work," Ellizas admitted thoughtfully. "It might be exactly what we've needed all along. But the guard will still have to respond," he cautioned, rubbing a clawed hand over his sweating chin as he regarded the humans standing together at the doors. "If he wakes and finds they haven't…"

"What are you talking about?" Janeway broke in, her eyes narrowed. "What might work?" But neither Jehnz-yin paid her any attention, and Chakotay was hardly paying much attention, still fussing at her neck, which was still seeping blood.

"I'll tell them to make sure it looks good, but now we won't have Gerros breathing down their necks," Nyra continued. "Fool that he is, the Guard captain can still handle his men, so long as they have no direct contradictory orders from their chancellor being shouted in their faces at the same time. _You_ just get Father to play his part. I don't have the patience to deal with him and tend to Gerros at the same time."

"He contacted you?" her brother fretted, paling. "Again?"

Nyra made a noise of disgust. "He was calling to bemoan the humans' response to his orders when I got to my room. Something about them demanding proof of life before they complied."

None of this strange discussion seemed to confuse or surprise Chakotay, Kathryn noted, her eyes narrowing more and more as they moved back and forth from him to the trio on the floor across the room.

"Will someone please explain what the hell is going on?" The question might have been delivered in a mild tone, but the look in Janeway's eye brooked no disobedience. She paid scant attention when Chakotay folded and pressed the ripped piece of his shirtsleeve to the wound on her neck and held it there. All she wanted was answers. "What are you talking about, Doctor?"

Nyra barely deigned to look up. "You and your first officer are leaving, Captain. Hopefully for good. You will 'escape' on a 'stolen' Guard ship. The captain of the Guard agrees with most of us that it's best for the Jehnz-yin people if the two of you – and your cursed ship – simply disappear before the chancellor makes more of a fool of himself and us than he already has."

"Didn't you say it was the captain of the Guard who met us at Osalik?" Janeway asked, eyes narrowing further as she looked to Chakotay. "Isn't he the one that brought us here in the first place?"

Again before Chakotay could answer her, Nyra did. "Yes. And he, like the rest of us, has regretted it every moment since."

"And our ship?" Chakotay ventured, not bothering to turn around as he watched the cloth seep up the blood from Kathryn's neck, mingling with spots of his own. "It isn't really here, is it?"

That got a response from Janeway. Her eyes shot to his, and he opened his mouth to respond to unspoken question, but Ellizas beat him to it this time.

"It is. We believe they've been waiting for word from the two of you. That or making repairs." He shrugged as he watched his sister work to address the deep gouge marks on his leader's face. "I didn't have the chance to explain earlier…"

No, he hadn't. Senator Accor had been a little busy dying in agony on the floor, Chakotay thought bitterly. Dying in _his_ place.

"The senator will accompany us," Kathryn's voice was sure, almost as if she'd read his thoughts – some of them, at least. "I won't leave her behind."

"Kathryn."

The hand still resting casually on her arm tightened briefly then relaxed, as if its owner was unsure of what to do with it. Glancing up at him, Chakotay's face, the short shake of his head said it all. Remorse, guilt. Too much for a simple injury or illness. Her stomach jolted. The senator was gone. And Chakotay, for some reason, felt guilty about her death. Kathryn's mouth went dry, but her expression only hardened against the pang of grief she experienced; it was a sensation she had become accustomed to.

Damn. She'd thought she'd at least managed to protect the senator from Xi – apparently, she'd failed in that, as well. She didn't have to ask the what, only the how. "Did she step in front of you?" was her quiet question. "Had Xi sent someone to kill you already?"

Chakotay shook his head, his expression dark and clouded as he recalled the horrifying scene he'd left behind to come here. "Apparently, he had our food poisoned."

It was the last thing she'd expected to hear, and her stomach twisted into more shocked knots. "_What_?"

"Not yours," he hastened to clarify, albeit bitterly. "Ours. Just the pastries he knew you didn't eat."

"He's been spying on us," she remembered, and was surprised to see him nod. "He saw us before, in the…in front of the mirror."

Chakotay's body shared in the shudders of disgust it felt rippling through hers. "Yes, he'd been spying on us. And I should have expected it, but I didn't. Apparently, Shasta managed to turn the tables somewhat." He got a raised eyebrow that dared him not to clarify, and he almost took a step back at the look in Kathryn's eye. That was a look he hadn't seen in some time. "The senator managed to link with Xi, and she was able to see what was going on...in here. What his intentions were. Unfortunately, by the time she'd worked out what else he'd done…"

"It was too late," Janeway finished for him. _She_ would have been too late, even if she had made it out of the room. If Chakotay had eaten those pastries first, he would not be standing in front of her now. Regret prickled at her insides, fueling a healthy surge of anger, and her dizziness was once more staved off with sheer determined will.

Their side conversation was interrupted by Nyra before Chakotay could answer. "We can't just leave him like this on the floor. And I don't have the strength to lift him myself."

Ellizas nodded. "Help me move him to the bed, Commander."

It was the last thing he wanted to do, considering what had happened this past few hours, all of the pain and evil Xi had been responsible for. He'd sooner drive a stake through the man's heart.

Even though her gaze had been locked on the female physician again, scrutinizing, Kathryn saw his hesitation from the corner of her eye. But her curt nod left no room for argument and neither did her tone. "Do it. Chakotay," she added, one hand moving to hold the makeshift bandage on her neck in place and the other reaching out to touch his chest, "I do believe them. I believe they intend to get us off this planet."

He studied her. The worrying glaze was still there in her eyes, but the glint under it was one he recognized. Despite his own feelings on the subject, one thing he could not argue was that somehow, someway, the Kathryn Janeway he'd been waiting to see for months was standing before him. How in the hell that had happened under circumstances like the ones he'd just walked in on, he had no idea, but now wasn't the time to discuss it. Taking the hand from his chest in both of his, he gave it a little squeeze. Offering a nod that spoke volumes more than words ever would, he lowered her hand to her side and stepped over to the chancellor's fallen form, ready to follow her directives without question.

But she would have that injury addressed as soon as he was finished helping, he told himself. Whether she or Nyra liked it or not.

The two men lifted their burden with effort, awkwardly working out their path in hushed tones as the women stepped aside, watching. But when the doctor only cut a cursory glare to the captain and moved to follow, she was shocked to have the same small hand that had given the commander pause close over her arm and hold her back. Nyra moved to jerk her arm free at once and found it easily released at the first resistance, but the eye contact she'd accidentally established wasn't broken as easily.

Steely blue-grey eyes locked onto hers, and for the very first time since she'd known the human woman, Nyra found herself intimidated by her, pinned by the intensity of her stare.

"You love him, don't you?" Janeway asked. "That's why you're doing this. And it's why you've hated me from the beginning."

The Jehnz-yin woman looked as though she would refuse to answer. And then she seemed as surprised as Janeway when she answered anyway. "Yes," she retorted, raising her knobby head regally. "I do. And it is why I'm helping you – in part. The other part is to protect him from himself. He can't help his…baser instincts sometimes. Or his peculiar notions." She paused, the silence deep as she studied the small woman across from her. "His eccentricity is one of his greatest strengths…and one of his worst weaknesses."

"Why haven't you simply had us killed?" the captain demanded, the sear of her gaze sharp. "Why help us escape and reunite us with our ship instead?"

"To protect him from himself. He will kill anyone he believes has defied him. Even if that person is only acting in his best interests. If you die, it would be obvious that someone has betrayed him, whereas your escape can be more easily explained." Nyra again appeared to have to debate with herself before she ventured, "Believe me, I considered it. I would shed no tears for you, but it would not have served the chancellor – or me – to do it. It would not have served our people." And her eyes blazed a challenge at the smaller woman before her, as if daring the captain to remark on Nyra's lack of remorse for hating her.

She was astounded when a simple frown was all the acknowledgment she received for her unabashed declaration. "Mister Benn shares your sentiments, I take it? Regarding the chancellor and your people?"

"Yes. My brother shares my beliefs fully."

The captain nodded, apparently working something over in her mind. The physician took the opportunity to study the wound at the smaller woman's neck, where she still held the makeshift bandage up with one slightly shaking hand. Her mouth tightened. "The mating lock was interrupted?"

"What?"

"The lock," Nyra snapped, gesturing to her own throat with an impatient hand. "The initiation of joining. His mouth locked onto you, in preparation for mating. Do not humans have the same bonding process?"

The captain regarded her coolly. "If you mean the bite the chancellor gave me, no. Most humans don't try and draw blood from a potential mate."

"How boring your mating rituals must be then," Nyra retorted. She was quieted by the steady gaze of her adversary, who somehow managed to retain the new dignified air surrounding herself. "You're bleeding so heavily because his teeth were ripped out of you. The lock shouldn't have been interrupted until the process had been completed. He wouldn't have had the reasoning capability by that time. The lock was broken when you struck him, I assume?"

"If you mean the lock of his teeth in my neck…?" The captain ignored the disdain in the physician's nod. "No. It was when I dug my nails into his eyes that he let go."

The physician blanched, her eyes flickering at the unapologetic demeanor of the woman before her. "That was unwise of you. Had you waited a moment, the endorphins would have been released into your bloodstream, dulling the pain and inducing euphoria."

"I had no intention of waiting for him to carry out _his_ intentions, Doctor."

"Then he didn't…?"

The physician was hanging on her answer, Janeway realized. Biting back her disgust, she shook her head curtly. "No."

She knew the relief she saw in the other woman's eyes had nothing to do with concern for her wellbeing.

Nyra swallowed once. "By interrupting the lock before the mating began, you would have received only the paralyzing agent from his incisors. Obviously you disrupted the lock before you received the full dose as you're up and walking."

Janeway felt her nostrils flare in disgust, her face whitening at the information. From what Nyra was describing, Jehnz-yin teeth worked rather like a venomous Earth snake's, the insides probably hollow. Venom-channeling. She barely noted that Chakotay and Ellizas had reentered the room sometime during the discussion, was only faintly aware of Chakotay's hand on her arm again.

Even in their mating rituals, the Jehnz-yi were reminiscent of predator/prey stalking and killing behavior. The notion of what that bite had been, and how close she'd probably come to being subdued because of it took a moment to process before it had to be discarded.

"Kathryn?" Chakotay's voice pulled at her in a way she hadn't let it until this moment. His hand was on her arm, lending her support, and the concern and hardly masked anger in his eyes begged to be addressed, but they hadn't the time for any of that now.

"I'm fine," she snapped automatically, her voice gruffer than normal. At the concern he kept leveling in her direction, the anger she could still see smoldering for what she'd been through, she relented, forcing more sincerity into her eyes. "Really, Chakotay. You look worse than I feel."

She could tell he didn't believe her, but he didn't argue, and that was enough for her.

"We should start for the base now, while the halls are relatively deserted," Ellizas began as he reached the side of the desk where his sister stood. "Nyra will stay and tend to the chancellor. Once you're gone, I'll give it a few hours. Then we can alert the guards out front that I've tried to comm. him and gotten no response."

"We'll leave in a moment," Janeway stated. She wanted nothing more than to get off this hellish planet, but there was one last thing she needed to take care of before she left, or it would be difficult to live with herself. "There's something I need to show the two of you before we go." Janeway began making her way over to the desk, where the monitor remained active, indicating for the others to follow her around to the other side of it. Turning the monitor slightly, she asked, "Have either of you seen this study before?"

Both siblings shook their heads, sharing a look between them that clearly indicated they questioned the human woman's sanity. Unfazed, Kathryn indicated the chair in front of the monitor, looking pointedly at Nyra. "Take a seat, Doctor. If what you told me about your feelings towards the chancellor and your people is true, I think you'll agree with me that this is worth a few minutes' delay."

* * *


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer****: **Please see chapter one.

**Notes**: For those two or three of you who might still remember what the heck happened in the last chapter. *Cringe* No yelling, please. I know _exactly_ how long it's been, thank you. And yes, I _am_ sorry. But I can finish it after all this time or not finish it…and I prefer to finish it. :)

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Four

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

It hadn't seemed possible, but Voyager had come alive again, and all it had taken was a thirty second audio recording.

_Proof of life_. It was the buzz of every deck, from one to fifteen.

The senior staff had demanded proof of life from the Jehnz-yi before allowing word to be leaked from the bridge. Not wanting to raise their hopes only to have to dash them again, Tuvok ordered a tight lid kept on the Jehnz-yi claim that the command team was alive.

Rumors had of course been exploding with unusual ferocity ever since it had become known that the Jehnz-yi had sent the first transmission. It was known that Tuvok had eventually responded, but not what had been discussed. Some of the crew thought they were negotiating a cease fire. A few that they were negotiating a surrender…not _entirely_ out of the realm of possibility, as drained as the ship's resources were already and considering the number of Jehnz-yin ships in close proximity. Most assumed the Jehnz-yi had demanded the Oncaveat be turned over to them, although very few thought Tuvok would do ever do it. But with the ship-wide message that had just been played over the comm. system, the nebulous rumors about the last Jehnz-yin transmission were finally addressed and silenced once and for all.

Proof of life. It looked…sounded…like they had it, after all. The command team had, essentially, just been resurrected from the dead.

The message had been preceded by a brief explanation by Tuvok, who had assured them that the message they were about to hear was part of a transmission that had been thoroughly verified for authenticity. That what they were about to hear, was, in fact, genuine. And then _her_ voice had come over that comm., startling the waking and sleeping alike into a daze of shock and disbelief…

"_I'm only allowed to record a short message, so I'll keep this brief. I understand many of you have speculated that Commander Chakotay and I couldn't have made it out of the implosion at Osalik three months ago. As understandable as that assumption was, as you can see, we did: Chakotay and I are very much alive and well. I have every confidence that you should be able to verify the authenticity of this message. The current stardate is 52847.4. That may be slightly off, possibly by a few days, as I'm not sure how long it'll take for this transmission to make its way to you, but you get the point._

_Of primary importance is that we've negotiated a cease fire between Voyager and the Jehnz-yin military. However temporary that agreement may prove. Our Jehnz-yin contact also informs me there are doubts about the sincerity of their offer to return us to Voyager – which comes as a considerable relief to both of us, I can assure you. If you didn't at least question their motives, after all this time, we'd be worried." The wry half smile was visible to all of them, even over the comm. system. "I can tell you only that I believe them to be sincere in their efforts and that we appear to be on a heading which puts us on a direct intercept course with Voyager. However, it will take a few weeks until we can rendezvous. In the meantime, my orders to you are as follows. Follow the instructions you've been given by your contact, General Benn – so long as his requests remain reasonable. Do nothing to break the agreement unless you're given no other alternative._

"_I've also negotiated for Voyager to be stocked with emergency provisions by the Jehnz-yin military, and you should be receiving those supplies within a few days. Their rations bars aren't the best thing you will have ever eaten, but they do the job in a pinch. Although Commander Chakotay asks that you all be warned to be particularly wary of the orange ones." Again, the sense that she was smiling was had by the captive Voyager audience. "And finally, let me make it clear that I expect there to be one __**hell**__ of a good reason for Voyager being anywhere close enough by to have you receiving this message in the first place. We both look forward to hearing your explanation for that, Mister Tuvok. Janeway out._"

Despite the few contradictory statements Tuvok had made just seconds ago, they listened in understandable skepticism, having been told repeatedly for the better part of three months that what they were listening to was impossible. But by the end of her message, it had been so undeniably, unarguably her. From deck to deck, people turned to each other in the charged silence that followed her words. The truth of the situation beginning to penetrate for most of them. And for a brief time, Voyager was silent. Not even the computer consoles seemed to have anything to say, and a pindrop could have been heard on any given deck from anywhere on the ship.

It lasted just long enough for Tuvok, on the bridge, to wonder if he had erred in his decision to play the recording with as little preamble as possible before letting them hear from her own words that she was alive. Much of that message had been directed to the senior staff, to him in particular, but he'd thought the crew would understand that the core of that message had been directed to them all. He'd thought it would benefit them to hear it, but he appeared to have miscalculated in some unforeseeable way. Perhaps, he mused, it had been too great a shock to unveil in such a manner…

And then cheers erupted through every deck, which, but for the inertial dampeners, probably would have rocked the entire ship on its axis.

They were alive.

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

It was slow going.

The ship was small, hardly larger than a shuttle. And although more sleek than any of the Jehnz-yin military cruisers, it was still apparent to them every moment that they were not aboard a ship of familiar or even superior design. The controls were difficult to work, the autopilot mechanism difficult to master because its various settings each had different drawbacks. They could set the ship to fly at maximum speeds but not with a particularly trustworthy course navigation system. In contrast, to operate in the safest, least oversight requiring mode, they were set at a limit of about warp five.

Chakotay sat at the controls, familiar with their quirks by now. Knowing that Bimmah, the young serving woman who had seen to their basic food requirements while on Ghanza Prime, was somewhere in her cabin, probably bawling her eyes out, was doing nothing to make the awkward ambiance of the Jehnzy-yin scout ship any better.

Finding her standing, trembling like mad on the flight deck had been a shock…and not of the pleasant kind. Especially after she'd been the one to bring those tainted pastries for Chakotay's consumption. As Nyra had unwittingly informed them, any Jehnz-yin would have recognized that scent from a kilometer away. The girl knew what she had done.

Apparently, "the girl" had been thinking exactly the same thing. She shook like a leaf in a furious wind as Voyager's officers were hurried onto the ship by the tall chancellor's aide, her gaze piteous as she begged Ellizas not to force her into exile. Because leaving with Voyager's officers aboard the "stolen" ship was effectively that. It would look like she'd betrayed the chancellor and helped the two humans escape out of some bizarre sympathy for their cause.

Ellizas had been unmoved. He'd insisted that Bimmah was the best choice to leave with the humans.

"_I've already planted the evidence in your chambers," he growled. "It will be discovered any moment…if it hasn't been already. Return now, and you'll be executed in the most unpleasant fashion the chancellor can contrive, I promise you." He watched her trembling increase, noted the fear-flushed pallor of her grey skin mottling further, and closed, "For your own safety, you'll have to remain with the humans until they've rendezvoused with my father's ship. He will know where to place you in service aboard a military vessel on the outskirts of space, so that you won't have to fear the chancellor's spies finding you." _

_And he forcefully ushered her into the tiny waiting vessel. _

Ellizas had not wavered in his staunch refusal to take her back to the palace estates. In the end, the girl's hysteria had only been abated by the sedatives Doctor Nyra had been planning on using on Chakotay – before he'd so summarily burst into the chancellor's private chambers. Ellizas had held the screaming girl still for his sister to inject while Chakotay had had to watch on in conflicted sympathy. But he'd helped get her settled into the only other cabin on the small ship before making Nyra stop in and check on Kathryn in the other one (he had only just finished placing Kathryn on the first bed when Ellizas had arrived with Bimmah). Kathryn hadn't been able to keep up the breakneck pace Ellizas had set for them on the way to the shipyard and had collapsed midway. Chakotay carried her the rest of the way and then impatiently waited for the doctor to catch up with them, needing Nyra to address that horrifically unsightly wound on Janeway's neck.

Nyra had complied with her usual grumbling. She'd been able to introduce a counteragent to the serum that had been preventing the captain's blood from clotting normally, and then the physician had sterilized the wound. More than that, she'd spit at Chakotay, she refused to do. _"Let her rest,"_ was Nyra's "advice". _"Her body will eventually compensate for the blood loss naturally."_

Though she hadn't deigned to explain the nature of the wound or its complications, it had to be enough that she'd addressed the injury, and, to Chakotay's immense relief, Janeway had stirred less than a few hours later, feeling, as she'd assured him many times, much better.

Bimmah, on the other hand, had slept for days, the heavy sedative thick in her system.

Upon sighting herself in the mirror of the small cabin the two of them shared – Bimmah still sleeping off the sedative in the other one – Kathryn had seen exactly what it was Chakotay had been making such an unprecedented fuss about back in the chancellor's chambers. The flesh wound she'd _thought_ she'd accrued from the chancellor's bite into her neck had ended up as no mere flesh wound. It was a gaping expanse of open sinew that had had the flesh torn right off of it, and further, it was an injury that hadn't wanted to stop bleeding until Nyra had finally seen fit to address it – nearly an hour later, when all was said and done. In her already less-than-ideal physical condition, the blood loss had done little for the captain's clarity of thought or her ease of motion, as she recalled upon inspecting her own appearance in the mirror. Coupled with the powerful chemicals the chancellor's saliva had injected into her bloodstream, Janeway had been unable to keep the swift pace Ellizas had set for their escape from the estate. She hadn't wanted to mention her increasing dizziness and had silently followed the chancellor's aide through the halls with increasing dimness until the last thing she remembered was crumpling into a too-quick step and strong arms catching her before she hit the ground.

She'd come to in the cabin of the small ship to find Chakotay on the flight deck and the ship already well underway.

The journey would take them several weeks before they'd catch up to Voyager. They were left with a lot of time on their hands, and they swiftly found themselves reviewing the events that had occurred just before they'd left the planet…

"_How are you feeling?"_

_She smiled at him. At his first question, which was so typical of him. It was the polite thing to ask, yes, but she knew also that wasn't why he'd asked it. And he'd have asked a stranger the same thing. He had such capacity for caring for other individuals. It was too often so easy to forget about him, yet it was one of the main reasons he made such a hell of an XO._

"_I'm much better now, thank you." And she almost had herself believing it. "I think the rest did wonders for working that serum out of my system."_

_He had no idea what had caused her to smile like that at him, but one word caught his attention too violently to spend time wondering over it. "Serum?" he echoed sharply. "You were __**drugged**__?"_

_Less than two sentences, and she'd already misspoken. Damn, she thought and shook her head, as if belying the magnitude of her explanation while she spoke. "The toxin the chancellor's bite released into my bloodstream. It was a paralyzing agent. According to Nyra, it couldn't all have gotten into my system if I was up and walking, so the effects weren't as complete as intended."_

_Still not good. He'd turned a shade rather resembling green at the notion, and she hastened to continue, "I hardly noticed it. I didn't even start feeling the effects until we started walking to the shipyard."_

_He swallowed painfully. Feeling like he was trying to swallow so many shards of glass. "I knew that wound looked bad. And I was going to have Doctor Benn look at it before we started walking–"_

"_But I refused," she smilingly finished for him. _

"_And I was afraid to argue with you, to be honest." He shook his head back at her. "You looked and sounded so much more like yourself than I'd seen you in some time." _

"_I hope so. I certainly felt more like myself." _

_He noted her smile, allowed it to dispel some of his self reproach. _

_Some. _

"_I noticed you were having trouble keeping up, but I thought it was your leg, or possibly the blood loss. I never thought he'd…" He couldn't finish. Could not complete that thought aloud._

"_Believe me, neither did I." She shuddered slightly at the memory of receiving that bite and at what had been happening at the time, but it did her no good to dwell on "almost", as she'd learned so thoroughly out here…_

_Chakotay didn't appear to be sharing her determination not to analyze the situation, however. _

"_That's twice now," he whispered, after a moment of ever-thickening silence while he surveyed her still-disheveled appearance. A moment of allowing his own mind to run through the sordid pictures his too-fertile imagination conjured at the tear in her dress and the smeared cosmetics she'd tried unsuccessfully to wash off before she'd joined him on deck. His eyes would hardly meet hers through the deep, stabbing pains lancing through him. "That's twice I've failed unforgivably in my primary duty as first officer–"_

"_Chakotay." She shook her head, gracing him with only a mild frown. Still pushing for lightness in an attempt to dispel the heavy atmosphere he seemed intent on pursuing. "For one thing, we haven't had any reason to expect to see the ship again these past few months…you haven't been under any first officer's obligation."_

"_As a friend, then," he countered mercilessly. "That's twice now that I've failed to protect a friend." _

"_I shouldn't __**need**__ protecting, damn it," was her only slightly bitter response. "We took the same self-defense courses at the academy, didn't we?" The look on his face made her groan inwardly. "But it's fine now," she cut in swiftly, her hand moving to lightly grip and reassuringly squeeze his muscled arm. "I'm not feeling any residual effects." She hurriedly continued, "And…thanks for catching me back there, by the way. That could have been a rather nasty fall." _

"_Down a flight of steps? I'd say so," he somberly agreed. He knew what she was doing by now, of course. And damn him for the fool that he was, but he couldn't help letting her get away with it. _

_For now._

_His gaze was steady on her for a long moment. "I wish you'd spoken up sooner, Kathryn."_

"_Yes, well," she absently smoothed the front of her ripped dress, "I didn't have the greatest amount of warning myself."_

_He gave her a mildly accusatory glance/reply, his only indication that he thought she was stretching the truth. _

_And she grinned unabashedly back at him, knowing she was caught and also that there was really nothing he could do about it. She wanted off the subject anyway before either one of them could dwell too long or too hard on what couldn't be changed anymore._

"_I don't suppose this ship is equipped with replicators?" she ventured hopefully. _

"_If you were looking for coffee, I'm afraid we have a few more weeks yet. No replicators."_

_Jehnz-yin replicators were crude things that produced only limited, basic ingredients. But without even them…her expression fell. "None? But then…"_

"_Rations," he replied with a wince._

_She grimaced. "And we thought Jehnz-yin __**food**__ was bad. Any bets on how bad the rations are going to be?"_

"_Well, I tried one while you were sleeping," he admitted. "I was hoping to be able to give you positive feedback so we knew which ones were palatable and you wouldn't have to try any and learn the hard way."_

"_And?" _

_He blanched, sorry to extinguish that faint note of hope in her voice as he rubbed unconsciously at his still-protesting stomach. "Whatever you do, __**don't**__ eat the orange ones."_

The rations were horrifying. The kind of stuff even Neelix's worst culinary blunders hadn't yet approached – and they only prayed never would. Just keeping them down was a colossal effort barely worth the rewards. As usual. Neither one of them was used to stuffing themselves on anything Jehnz-yin anyway, so the hunger went hardly noticed anymore.

Chakotay swiftly brought her up to speed on everything that had occurred in the interim while she'd been sleeping. He was doubtful of Ellizas's word regarding Bimmah's fate, but he couldn't bring himself to be overly concerned with her, either. He highly doubted Kathryn was thinking of folding her into the ranks of Voyager, anyway…

"No," Janeway had agreed. "It's out of the question. We'd never be able to trust her."

The ship was their top-most priority. How was Voyager faring in the meantime? As far as they knew, Chakotay's actions just before reaching Kathryn at Osalik had generated several more freed Oncaveat prisoners to protect from Jehnz-yin retaliation. That on top of already having over a hundred Oncaveat to relocate…if Tuvok hadn't done so already. It wouldn't have been his first choice to resettle them inside the borders of Jehnz-yin territory, but the incredible drain on ship's resources couldn't be maintained indefinitely. There was a good chance the passengers would have had to be resettled weeks ago by now. And even so, the drain would have been significant on Voyager's strained resources.

The moment they'd realized Voyager couldn't be in particularly top notch condition, having hung back in the part of space the last three months, that was the first thing Kathryn addressed with Ellizas. He put up a fight over it, but Janeway simply refused her further cooperation without his agreement. Knowing, as she did, what it meant for Voyager's resources to still have the Oncaveat aboard after all this time, she wasn't able to keep herself from battling him for the concession. Eventually, probably out of sheer annoyance more than anything, and to stop her sending transmissions that could so easily get them caught if they fell into the wrong hands, Ellizas sourly agreed to have one of his father's ships transfer provisions of rations and crude energy supplies.

They hadn't been permitted to speak to Tuvok directly, though Kathryn had, at her own insistence, been allowed to record a short message for him. There was no way of knowing if the message had actually been relayed, however, until they were given his reply – if he was permitted to reply at all. Frustratingly, Ellizas had not made keeping in contact with their small ship a priority. The most communication they got from him was short, cryptic messages, text only, regarding the directions of their prearranged flight plan. It may have been the prudent course of action in order to cover their tracks for when Nyra finally awoke what was sure to be an enraged Gerros Xi, but the silence was no less irritating for that fact.

They were left alone. Bimmah didn't come out of her small cabin and took her rations in the tiny room, as well. She seemed fearful of the humans, now that she was essentially at their mercy, and had no desire to socialize with them. Neither Janeway nor Chakotay could bring themselves to be particularly dedicated in reassuring her, either.

As the days crept slowly onward, the analysis they'd begun of the past few months while they'd been imprisoned on the chancellor's estate expanded to include more recent events .

"_It may have been outright interference, but, no, I don't regret telling Nyra about those studies," Kathryn declared at his pointed inquiry. "If anyone can figure out a way to reverse the effects on their gene pool, it'll be her. She was supposed to be the most competent physician the chancellor could find, after all."_

"_Then you don't think the chancellor ever had any intentions of telling anyone else what he'd learned?"_

"_No. And his scientists were sworn to secrecy, apparently. They'd never have told anyone, for fear of losing their lives."_

"_Do you think she believed you?"_

_Kathryn shrugged, her brows knitted together in concern. "I'm not sure."_

_Chakotay couldn't help a shudder for several reasons as he offered up the other half of his disgusting packet of something that resembled dried fruit, the bitter flavor still puckering his cheeks. "I hate to think about all those Oncaveat he gathered into his 'research facility'. And what becomes of them when he regains consciousness."_

"_When Nyra and her brother decide to wake him up, you mean?" She shook her head, grimacing at the fruit but knowing there was far worse in the storage drawer. "I know. And I don't entirely trust her not to come around to his side of things." Her gaze flickered subtly as she met his eyes. "She loves him, you know. Or at the very least, I think she genuinely cares for him…"_

_Chakotay nodded. "I'd gathered something like that was the case," he admitted. "So you don't think it's likely she'll go against his wishes?"_

_Kathryn shrugged again. "She might. She did go against his orders by setting us free, after all."_

_It was cold comfort to either one of them as they sat in uncomfortable, guilt-tinged silence. After a moment, Chakotay ventured: "The doctor might be able to–"_

"_I'm not going to ask him to," she cut him off immediately, not needing to hear the rest of the sentence to know his thoughts. "And neither are you."_

_He sat back, understanding in spite of his conscience, which tore at his insides without mercy. "I understand your reluctance to help the Jehnz-yi reproduce. And I can't say I disagree with it. I don't, given their predatory behavior and violent cultural beliefs."_

"_I know."_

"_You're not happy about not asking him, though," Chakotay surmised from her expression._

"_Of course I'm not. Whether or not it would just enable them to continue the same predatory behavior they've engaged in all along…they're still sentient beings. And they can't all be like the ones we've met. Some of them…showed hints of goodness in them."_

"_And who are we to decide who's worthy of intervention and who's not."_

_She nodded miserably, and not just at the sad excuse for food he'd just handed off to her. "I may have played the role of a god, however reluctantly, but that doesn't mean I actually wanted the job."_

"_Really?" he teased. "But I thought you were so bored with your otherwise mundane existence." She didn't bite, not even a tiny smile, and he sighed. "In this case, you can fall back on the Prime Directive. It applies to medical technology." _

"_With good reason. Even if the doctor could figure out a way to reverse their genetic defects, we'd be giving them vast amounts of medical knowledge they probably wouldn't otherwise develop for decades. Possibly centuries..." _

"_And we have no way of knowing whether or not they could use any technology the doctor invented for sinister purposes."_

"_Exactly." But her tone, her expression had all indicated a lack of enthusiasm in her satisfaction with that answer._

_He knew why. "You're worried about all those Oncaveat we left behind," he predicted quietly. _

_She stopped absently fingering the cup of reconstituted juice she'd been slowly sipping, her eyes locking on him from across the flight deck. "Aren't you?"_

"_Frankly, more than I'd like to be," Chakotay had to admit ruefully. "But at some point, we have to step back from this situation and move on. We can't stay here forever, trying to solve this conflict. It's been going on for centuries. It started well before we got here, and on some level, it's probably going to continue long after we're gone. We've done the best we can to put the Oncaveat in a position to be able to weather the Jehnz-yin storm."_

_She sighed. "I know that. It's just…" He waited patiently for her to decide to voice her lingering concerns. Finally, her eyes rested on him again. "I can't help feeling some responsibility toward those poor souls in Gerros's research facility. They were only surrendered there due to my involvement."_

_Ah. He glanced down at his feet on the weathered deck below. There was that, yes. And that had occurred to him, as well. "I'm not sure what we can do about it, at this point. There's a chance the project won't continue, now that at least two others know about the chancellor's plans for that facility."_

"_Yes, but we both know it's a slim chance at best that Gerros won't manipulate both of them into compliance. And even if they don't fall into line with his expectations, he could always have them killed to keep them quiet."_

_That was, unfortunately, exactly in line with the chancellor's ruthless characteristics. _

"_But what can we do about it now? I'm not sure there _is_ anything…"_

_She grew silent for long seconds, her gaze wandering over the different controls and hardware on the deck. Her eyes caught on the screen beside him, where he'd pulled up the last of Ellizas's relayed messages. And then, inexplicably, the smallest of upturns to the side of her mouth was observed, and Chakotay felt himself sitting up straighter. Oh, he knew that look. If she'd had a commbadge, she would have been fiddling with it, he'd have bet even weeks worth of holodeck rations on it. And he should have known that she'd come up with a solution to even this kind of impossible-seeming situation. But he doubted he was going to like her method. _

_He rarely did._

"_Kathryn? Do I even want to ask…?" he ventured warily._

"_Just how good have you gotten with that communications equipment?" she inquired slyly._

"_Pretty familiar with it by now – why?"_

"_Do you think you could transmit a sub-space message that would be receivable on most subspace bandwidths on Ghanza Prime?"_

"_Possibly." He frowned. "Probably. We're not too far away, yet." As he studied her, that look in her eyes was accompanied by a devious sparkle. "Why? What did you have in mind?"_

"_I think that the goddess of virility–"_

"_Fertility," he automatically corrected her, out of habit._

"_Whatever. But it's her fault the Oncaveat are in this predicament in the first place. I think it's only fair that she be the one to get them out of it."_

_He waited, afraid he was starting to get the general gist of her plan._

"_I think she has one more message she wants to relay to the Jehnz-yin people before she withdraws into her own realm for good."_

The message had been brilliant. Bimmah had been disturbed in her self-imposed solitary confinement to help with Kathryn's appearance, and while the girl's hands hadn't stopped shaking the entire time, Bimmah was the one to grind some of the colorful food rations into powder that could be used to adorn Janeway's face one last time. Bimmah had also helped to apply them. Once the command team had decided the results were at least passable, they'd dismissed the girl, and Janeway had taken a seat in front of the imager, having assumed her false Jehnz-yin identity one last time to record that message. With some major investigation on their parts, they'd managed to find the translation algorithms in the ship's language database. They worked for a full day together, in near silence, to convert the message into Jehnz-yin.

"I think that's it," she finally sat back in her chair, utterly exhausted from fighting with the slow Jehnz-yin computer. "That's as good as it's going to get."

Chakotay, long ago having set aside his own reservations in favor of supporting Kathryn's efforts, simply nodded agreement. "Would you like to do the honors?" he asked.

She smiled at him as she leaned over where he sat, indicating the correct sequence to press in order to send their message. "Here goes nothing…"

The screens lit up in a brilliant sequence, and Chakotay smiled softly at her questioning glance. "That's it. For better or for worse, it's sent. They should begin receiving you on all subspace bandwidths within a few hours."

They watched their own message playing on screen. Her mouth quirked another wry smile, if not thrilled with, then fairly pleased with the results of the dim lighting they'd used to hide most of the flaws in her appearance. She got up, wincing at sore muscles from having worked over the console so long, and he walked with her to the cabin to help unfasten the back of the dress so she could change into the more comfortable (she claimed) pilot's gear that was entirely too large for her.

"Care to place any friendly wagers on how Ellizas and Nyra are going to take the goddess's reappearance?" she quipped.

Chakotay only winced and tried not to stare too intently at her in that dress again, as being caught doing so at this point would only bring about the awkward silence between them again.

Where they stood with each other had not yet been worked out, though almost everything else had by now. It was fast becoming the pink elephant of the room whenever the two of them were alone together – which was pretty much always, now.

And they were running out of time in which they could discuss it.

Only minutes ago, he'd caught himself absently tucking those stray strands of hair back behind her ear again until he'd realized what he was doing and quickly dropped his hand away. She'd given him an odd look. She was giving him one now, and he realized she must be waiting for him to leave so she could finish changing.

He excused himself quickly, under the pretense of checking their navigation plan for any updates from Ellizas.

He sat on the flight deck now, his head dropped back on the headrest of the pilot's seat as he indulged in a quiet, heartfelt groan. He knew what needed to be done, of course. What would have to be done now that they were returning to the ship. She hadn't needed to spell it out for him the first time they'd been in this situation, and she certainly didn't need to now.

He'd sworn to himself he wasn't going to put himself in the position again, he remembered now in self-disgust – hadn't he sworn up and down that he would never do this with her again?

Yes. He had. And yet, even years later, the _minute_ she gave him the tiniest indication that there could be something between them…he sat up a little in his chair. All right, so it had been more than a tiny indication. He'd been telepathically linked to her brain. He'd felt directly from her the depth of her feeling for him – and it had blown him away because she'd hidden it so well. Too well. He'd been shell-shocked in the aftermath of that brief but intense connection. At how deeply she felt…_could_ feel for him…and at just how well she'd concealed it from him all this time, too.

He pushed back on his automatic anger with some effort. She'd _had_ to, though. It couldn't be done on the ship while maintaining their objectivity. It wasn't an option.

So here they were again. Same exact situation. Same exact, damned heart-wrenching situation. Part of him wanted to cling to this few weeks of respite, this almost seclusion they had with each other on this ship. Part of him wanted to take full advantage of the gap before they reunited with Voyager and go back to that cabin right _now_ and take her in his arms and–

That would only make it so, so much worse. Having those kinds of memories to have to combat…as it was, he was fighting the knowing what she tasted like now. Knowing what she felt like, pressed up against him, and knowing exactly how much electric charge could be created and shot through every molecule in both of them when they touched like that…

It was time. Time to start pushing back from one another. It was going to kill him, slowly, from the inside out, but he knew he was…_somehow…_going to do it. Because she was the captain, and she was the one with the heaviest burden on her shoulders out here. And the one thing he had sworn to her was never to make that burden any heavier, to lighten it if he could. Pushing himself on her under these conditions, insisting that they follow this connection between them would be doing the opposite of that. She'd made it crystal clear the first time that she couldn't handle anything more than friendship and still captain the ship. He couldn't assume her feelings had changed miraculously since then.

If they had, she'd have acted on that change. He knew her well enough to know that. She wasn't timid about _anything_.

Gods, but she was making it a living hell for him, though! She would still unthinkingly brush a hand over his shoulders as she walked behind him, or stare too deeply into his eyes for full minutes at a time before seeming to catch herself. She tortured him with those looks, with those not-casual-enough caresses. She was trying to _kill_ him, plain and simple…

An insistent beeping caught his attention, snapping him out of his musings and making him sit up straighter in his chair as he recognized what the alien console was telling him. .

Ellizas had broken his silence in order to contact them…roughly one hour after they'd begun broadcasting Kathryn's message. It wasn't a coincidence. Chakotay tensed inwardly, calling out for her to join him on deck as he keyed the sequence to bring up the transmission.

He sincerely doubted Ellizas was going to be pleased.

* * *

**End note**: We're really almost done here. I promise. Just a few more chapters and that's it.


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: **Please see chapter one.

**Notes**: A million thanks to Chesh for the read through. Again.

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Five

* * *

"Where's Bimmah?"

The question was seemingly innocent as she risked a glance at him over the rim of her cup.

They'd just sat down to the table, and his eyes met hers ever so briefly as he dared to drink in an extra few seconds of soft blue under cover of dim grey lighting. Considering before replying. "In her cabin. As usual." He looked away at the pensiveness he detected swimming just below the deceptively calm depths of her irises.

He couldn't help that. She was the one who'd drawn this out for nearly three weeks now. Every time he'd tried to broach _the_ subject, she'd found an excuse to avoid it. And on a ship this small, it was an impressive feat indeed, but she'd managed it.

He knew her – _too_ well, sometimes. Kathryn didn't want to talk about Bimmah any more than he did, he knew.

She toyed with a small serving of dehydrated vegetables she'd only be able to graze with real effort this evening, the utensil in her hand unnecessary but more fitting to the occasion. "Does she know we're arriving tomorrow?" she ventured quietly.

"Yes. She knows." His answer was only slightly terse. Just this side of conversational.

She overlooked it, apparently oblivious, her eyes now fastened to her makeshift plate: two spread-out rations wrappings overlapped like colorful napkins. A compulsive, whimsical attempt at normality under these so abnormal circumstances. "And how does she feel about it?"

He repressed a sigh and a snapped out response in one indrawn breath. "About the same – did you honestly expect she'd come around suddenly?"

Again, it was just a shade shorter than it needed to be. But damn it, he couldn't help that, either. It wasn't what she wanted to know; she knew _exactly_ how Bimmah felt about arriving to Voyager tomorrow. If they opened the door of their shared cabin right now, they'd hear the girl sobbing, probably still. How she had any tears left after three weeks of near ceaseless blubbering was beyond him, really…

"I feel for her, Chakotay."

That quiet admission somewhat surprised him, though. Enough that he hardly noticed how long Kathryn's eyes remained fixated on her make-shift plate and more than enough to keep him from thinking of anything to respond with.

"She's being asked to give up everything she's ever known. With no warning. No choice, really."

"She had a choice," he replied. Chakotay was trying his best not to be so cold-hearted towards Bimmah's suffering, but that, too, was difficult.

As difficult as it was to fully enjoy this last meal with Kathryn.

"She could have chosen not to try to poison me. If she had, a good woman wouldn't have lost her life in my place."

"We've been through that," Kathryn reminded him, the warning edge only in the very last note of her reply. "It was as much my fault as it was yours."

"We've been through _that_," he countered, with nearly an identical inflection to the one she'd used a second before.

Their eyes met again. Again, briefly. And then the contact was broken on repressed sighs from both of them. They _had_ been through it, all of it, many times. And they ended up where they'd started each time, with neither one of them particularly inclined to relinquish the guilt they experienced at knowing Shasta had died on their watch. No good would come of exploring that again now, and the subject was swiftly dropped on unspoken mutual agreement.

For Chakotay, this was a bittersweet evening. An evening that marked the end of their miserable separation from Voyager…and the end of having had her essentially to himself for the first time in a long while. In that time, while the physical parameters between them hung in perpetual limbo, he'd continued the rediscovery of her that had begun on Ghanza Prime.

He'd almost forgotten how much he _liked_ her, he realized again while looking at her. He genuinely _liked_ Kathryn. He liked her sense of humor and her intelligence. The surprising warmth and depths of her that rarely showed to their fullest capacity while on duty but that slipped through occasionally in one on one interactions. He liked her nuances and little mannerisms. He _enjoyed_ studying her quirks and habits – the ones he'd found himself taking for granted and not noticing over the past year or so. He'd taken notice of them a great deal the past few months, more so these past weeks while he wasn't so preoccupied with trying to keep her out of harm's way.

Now, his eyes were drawn to the movement of her thumb sliding up and down the side of her cup. She usually did that most to her mugs of coffee, and he knew that at least a percent of her was rueful that the contents of this cup weren't her precious beverage…or hell, even a nicely aged wine would have hit the spot, as they'd mused quietly at the beginning of the meal. But most of her thoughts were where his were now, he knew, for her to be making those idle motions most might not have noticed at all.

She wasn't preoccupied with making it back to the ship after their long absence or considering how best to maintain this tenuous alliance with the Jehnz-yin military once they returned; that had all been worked out between the two of them, and they were prepared to do their best to get out of the agreement with Voyager intact. She also wasn't mulling over Ellizas's incredible anger over her broadcasting stunt of two weeks earlier. They'd pretty much dealt with the fallout from all of that by now. To prevent her from doing it again, Ellizas had ordered jamming signals sent against their small ship by the many guard vessels that "accidentally" passed by their position every so often. And Chakotay knew she wasn't worried about the effect her briefly-played message had had on the Jehnz-yin people because Ellizas had let slip during one of his furious tirades that many of them had dismissed their Oncaveat house servants from service and provided for them to leave the planet in small, unthreatening groups. Thanks to her message, many former Oncaveat slaves were being allowed to congregate and settle as best they could somewhere outside of Ghanza Prime. And it had all happened in the span of hours, thanks to her recording.

But that wasn't what had her thinking so intently now, either.

No. Kathryn's mind, like his, was on the one subject neither of them had seemed able…or in her case willing…to broach, and yet the one thing that probably needed more discussing than anything else.

It was almost time to sleep, and with their poor nutrition and the perpetual lull the poor artificial lighting wove over them here, she would be exhausted soon. There was no time left. It really was do or die. The sentiment was only pushed further into clarity for him as she rose to get them both a single glass of water, one of two they allowed themselves daily to make the rations last. There were still a few days' worth left, but that was a precaution they'd be grateful for if something unexpectedly interfered with their rendezvous with Voyager tomorrow…and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the warmth of her hand as she unthinkingly brushed it over his shoulders, grazing the sensitive bare flesh of his neck before setting his water down solicitously in front of him and then retaking her seat across from him.

"Thank you," he barely managed to get out. Gritting his teeth at the lingering scent of her standing so close to him in the small cabin and the way the feel of her skin on his quickened his pulse against his mind's desperate direction.

He couldn't go on like this. Especially not once they got back to the ship and they resumed their respective roles of captain and first officer. _He_ couldn't. She couldn't keep casually touching him like this once they got back to Voyager and expect him to maintain control of himself. To stuff his feelings back into that tight little box in which he'd tried, so unsuccessfully, to suffocate them the past few years…

He opened his mouth to speak.

She chuckled quietly, and his head came up in curiosity, his mouth closing in surprise. She was studying _him _now. Openly.

And laughing at him.

"What?" he demanded, before he could stop himself. "What's so funny?"

"You." Her grin was all but impish even as she visibly tried to contain herself.

"_Me_? How so?"

"Are you sure you want to hear it? You won't like it," she warned.

"I'm sure I won't." He could tell she was teasing him, and he wasn't entirely sure he trusted that this wasn't yet another attempt to distract him from the conversation he _knew_ she'd known was coming.

But now she had him genuinely curious. "Yes. I want to hear it. What's so funny?"

She couldn't contain a flashed grin before relenting, "I was just thinking how much grumpier you are when you don't get regular meals."

He was floored by her – yet again.

And slightly offended. His mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?"

Was she serious with this?

"I'm sorry, Chakotay." She tried to look apologetic, but, shining through the attempt at seriousness was her amusement all the while. "But it's true."

He watched, speechless, as she folded her hands together, using them as a bridge to rest her chin upon as she sparkled with amusement not in any way quelled by his automatic resentment of her assertion.

"I don't think I ever realized how much of a relationship you really have with food."

"A relationship," he repeated slowly. "With food." He frowned deeply. With what was a hint of dangerously as he felt his eyes narrowing. "I don't think I'm following you."

"You _do_," she insisted. "The longer you go between meals, the more irritable you get."

"That's blatantly untrue, Kathryn."

"Really?" Her lips were twitching, not at all put off by his defensive denial. "The less food we eat overall, like we have on this ship, the less agreeable you tend to be."

"And you don't think the _situation_ has had anything to do with my overall mood?" he countered incredulously.

"Oh that's part of it," she readily agreed, nodding. Still smiling. "Of course the situation is a lot of it. But the rest of it can be directly tracked by mealtimes." She shrugged delicately. "You get…touchy…when your blood sugar drops. Don't take it personally. It happens to a lot of people."

He stared back at her across the tiny table for a long moment. Trying to work out a response to this ridiculous claim, as well as a motivation behind it. With Kathryn, you had to check every angle sometimes, look for the unspoken and unseen in order to get to her true motives. She was sneaky. Aside from those he'd already suspected to begin with, however, he uncovered nothing past the amusement.

"There's no need to be upset over it. We all have our weaknesses. I've only just discovered yours."

"Kathryn…" he began warningly. But found he had absolutely nothing to counter with in that moment. Once again, she had him speechless.

She was still grinning back at him even as she shrugged a single shoulder again, apparently genuinely convinced of the slanderous accusations she was leveling. "It's not as though it's a secret that I'm usually unfit for human companionship before my first cup of coffee, myself, Chakotay."

"You're hardly fit for _Jehnz-yin_ companionship before your first cup," he bantered back easily this time, glad for the hint of a foothold in this insane conversation, "but that's hardly relevant to what you're saying now."

"Of course it is. Your weakness just happens to be food."

Chakotay blinked. Sighed and bowed his head.

Fine. She was punishing him now. He understood. "All right," he allowed defeatedly. "I'll agree I haven't been…myself lately. And I'm sorry if it's made me…short-tempered. I am." He raised his eyes from the table. "I never meant to take it out on you…I didn't think I was, but if I have, I'm sorry–"

"You haven't," she assured him, waving him off. Seeing he wasn't quite convinced, her hand came to rest on his across the table, sending those sparks of sensation through bare flesh again and further putting him at disadvantage as she continued more warmly, "Not really. I just know you well enough to notice the difference between a happy Chakotay and a grumpy one. However well you hide it for the most part."

"But it's situational," he insisted.

"Is it?"

"Yes!"

She sat up a little straighter and ignored his quiet groan. "Let's look at the evidence, then."

He was done. Once she started approaching an argument scientifically…he groaned again. Pinching his thumb and forefinger over the slight pressure he felt building behind his eyes through the bridge of his nose, but it didn't put her off in the slightest.

As he'd known it wouldn't.

"At breakfast you're pleasant enough," she began. "I'll give you that, although you're quieter than usual, so it's really hard to tell. But at mid-morning, you tend to dip in both energy and tolerance. By meal time, your mood has declined to a level of mild irritation. Just before lunch, it hits a plateau of disagreeableness, and then again toward late afternoon. And then while we're eating dinner, your mood steadily improves until you're your usual agreeable self again afterward…but it takes you a while to catch up with what you eat at the beginning of dinner."

He really could only stare at her now. And she was in full swing of her ridiculous theory, barely pausing for breath anyway.

"It never struck me until we were thrown together on this ship. I don't think it's really been all that evident on Voyager because we've managed to restock our food supplies before things have gotten too dire. But on the whole, we've been well fed, to the point of being too well fed, sometimes."

Oh she was enjoying the hell out of this, he saw now from the devious grin that had returned to her lips.

"When you first came aboard, I saw hints of your temper. We butted heads a few times in those early days," she acknowledged. "But after a good few months of being on Voyager, you grew more and more manageable."

"_Manageable,_" he cut in dangerously, but she cut right back over him. Completely ignoring him.

"To the point that I've often wondered if you could really deserve the reputation your intelligence file attributed to you. You were rumored to be notoriously short-tempered and brusque, you know."

"_Was_ I?" he challenged, not at all pleased at this revelation, either, but she hardly noticed his annoyance. If anything, she seemed further amused by it.

"Yes," she nodded without hesitation or concern, "you were. And yet I never saw any true evidence of that in your behavior almost from the moment you stepped onto Voyager. I used to think it was because I knew how to handle you."

He didn't even bother this time, knowing she wasn't going to stop until she was finished.

"Now, though, I have to wonder…"

He saw where this was going now. Winced preemptively to the sound of her open laughter.

"How much of that had to do with the lack of resources the Maquis had available to them. Including…"

"Food?" He shook his head at her. "You think the reason I was the way I was in the Maquis…and the reason that I was rumored to be…" he almost choked on the word, "'brusque'…was because of lack of _food_."

"Low blood sugar. That's about it," she agreed readily. Grinning mercilessly at his affronted pride. "And to think…all this time, I thought it was _me_ that made you more docile."

Now she was taking it too far.

"_Docile_?" he growled.

"Yes, docile." At the warning expression on his face, she could only laugh harder, leaning well back in the uncomfortable chair without feeling it. "And I've been so secretly pleased with myself. But all this time…all anyone _really_ had to do to make you see their side of things…"

"You've lost your mind, you know that?"

"…Was to feed you well."

He sat up very straight in his seat. Taking full advantage of their difference in height. "I've lived almost five decades in this universe. Yet no one's ever thought I had this 'problem' before you."

"And how many of them have had this kind of opportunity to study you this closely?" she parleyed triumphantly.

Despite the relentless assault on his dignity, her amusement almost undid him. In spite of himself, a tug at the corners of his own lips almost betrayed him, but he kept it together in favor of a resolutely martyred expression.

"Fine," he sighed. "To be honest, if this new 'theory' of yours is all it takes to make you smile again, then you can keep it, for all I care. I just don't see any other sense in it than that."

"Good. I will." She pounced on her victory. Leaning in close over the table. "And I can tell you I'm tempted to put my theory to good use as soon as possible. I'm thinking of keeping a jar of cookies in my desk. So the next time you follow me into the ready room to disagree with something I've just proposed…"

"You'll offer me a _cookie_? Because that's what's supposed to make me see 'reason'?"

"It's worth a try!" she agreed.

He could really only shake his head at this point. "As long as I can use coffee on you."

"You already do!" She laughed openly at his confused expression and the way he'd automatically opened his mouth to deny it. "Don't think I don't notice that you strategically bring me a cup just after I've gone off on someone in Engineering, or Astrometrics…or anywhere else I've been spending the day working on something besides the bridge."

Well, damn. She had him there…because he _did_. She drank far too much of the stuff, but sometimes, for the greater good, sacrifices had to be made in the course of duty. And making sure Kathryn had regular access to coffee was unarguably the lesser evil some days.

For all involved.

"Are you saying I know how to handle _you_?" he demanded gruffly.

She was laughing too hard at his expression to respond.

His own lips were twitching again. He couldn't help it. It was just her laughter. The look on her face, even when she was teasing him mercilessly for something that was entirely made-up fantasy in her own twisted mind. Her laughter was always, had always been, infectious to him, and there was a long moment while they both dissolved into laughter that couldn't be suppressed, and he was so loathe to break the mood between them, this light and carefree mood they so rarely ever got to share together but it was only a delay in the inevitable. With the way he always wanted to kiss her most when she was laughing across a candle-lit table from him, the way her open mouth and mischievous eyes beckoned him to lean over and…

The thought sobered him almost immediately. Because he couldn't do it. And he might have been able to, at long last, if they'd remained cut off from the ship, but now… No. He couldn't. That chance, as before, was lost to him now.

She didn't believe the captain of a starship should date a member of her crew. Didn't believe that she had that right, and further, didn't believe that she, personally, could handle that conflict of interest.

He was left with having to respect that.

He took yet another look at her face as the laughter faded from it, and she grew more serious. Her face was framed over the small portable amber light at the center of the small table, the only warm enough lighting source to even remotely resemble something like a candle's effects. Drinking in her expression, her features. The slight softness that would rarely, if ever, be in evidence once they set foot on the transporter pad again. The softness his next words were going to be the catalyst in chasing back into retreat deep within hidden parts of her.

Because they had to.

"Kathryn." The word almost strangled in his constricted throat.

"Hmm?" she absently acknowledged, lifting the cup she'd been toying with.

"I think…" He took a deep breath. Cleared his throat.

And stepped out in front of the firing squad, heart first.

"I think we need to define some parameters…"

She froze in the act of sipping. Her eyes snapping to his what looked like expectantly over the rim of the clouded metal cup. Waiting.

"About us," he finished hoarsely.

Kathryn swallowed. Nodded once, a flicker of resignation settling over her features. And set her cup back down precisely in its place at the left corners of her napkin. Surprising the hell out of him when a small _smile_ was his very first indication of response.

After a moment in which he was afraid she wasn't going to say anything at all, she finally offered a perfectly calm, "I'm not sure if I _can_…define parameters."

Damned if there wasn't a hint of sparkle in those deep blue eyes of hers, too, just as there had been a moment ago when the conversation had been anything but serious. He blinked. Feeling as if he'd been slapped in the face at the lightness with which she responded to his serious attempt to ford the rushing waters raging between them. But before he could even open his mouth to respond, she held up a hand, the softening of her expression halting his whirling thoughts.

"Wait," she asked seriously. All trace of amusement gone from her eyes and tone. "Let me…I wasn't laughing at you this time. I'm not…" she sighed, at his confusion and her own inability to spit out what she wanted to say. She forced herself to gather her increasingly murky thoughts. "I was only smiling because you've been trying to find a way to bring up this conversation for three weeks now, and I've been trying to avoid it until I was ready for it. You only…surprised me…by bringing it up just now, when I wasn't expecting it."

He nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak yet.

She hesitated. He almost missed it, but hesitate she did until she seemed to make herself meet his eyes again. "Will you let me go first?"

Oh no. He started to shake his head before he spoke. _No_. That was the one thing he didn't want, actually. He didn't need to hear anything she was going to say. Would prefer not to _have_ to hear her say it. He didn't need it playing over and over in his mind in her _voice_, no less. _No_.

"Honestly, I don't think it's necess–"

"I think it _is_," she disagreed, cutting over him. "And I was going to…I've been thinking about what to say to you for days now. I finally had it all planned out this morning. But I was going to wait for the right moment, and bring it up after dessert."

"Dessert?" The word took too long to translate through his frozen mind, its meaning filtering through the block his apprehension had set up around his brain. "You…what?" he asked hollowly.

He was losing it.

_Dessert_.

Unwittingly, his eyes flew to the unopened brown foil package that lay between them. He gasped in a half choke, half laugh. Realizing. "_Oh_," he allowed.

The vegetable they'd nicknamed "chocolate", because it was the closest thing to smelling like it. It didn't _taste_ like it, not by a long shot, but for about three seconds before it started burning into their taste buds, they could close their eyes and imagine that it was chocolate they'd just…he shook his head.

"But you had to go and throw me off by bringing it up ahead of time, didn't you?"

"I don't…Kathryn." He focused on her. On her face. Trying to wade through all of her statements and finding it exceedingly difficult. "We have to talk about…us. Now. Tonight."

She was nodding, apparently in complete agreement. Fighting not to smile at him again, which sparked his ire again.

"It isn't funny," he admonished. "I can't believe you think it–"

"No," and she was entirely serious in her response. "Believe me, I don't find the topic funny – it's your spluttering reaction to it that's making me smile."

"_Spluttering_…?" he spluttered, before he could catch himself.

"Yes," she nodded ruefully with another twitch at the corners of her mouth, "that. Exactly. What I'm trying to say to you is that I have been working this conversation out in my mind for days now."

"So have I."

She paused at that. "I probably should have expected that you had," she realized aloud. "But I think I should go first. More importantly, I think this time you _deserve_ to get to go second…don't you?" She leaned forward just barely in her chair. "You _are_ the one who had to put himself out on the line last time. It wouldn't be fair to make you do that again."

Good great spirits of his people and of his ancestors. Did she want him to sit here and listen to her lay out all the reasons why they _should_ have what they both deserved before they got down to the inevitable conclusion that they still weren't going to have it? Was she planning on making him listen to her tell him what he'd already felt, which was that she not only returned the feelings he'd had to stifle for her out here, but that she returned them every bit as strongly? Just before reiterating what he already knew about how it would end, which was going to be that she didn't think she could handle it? That _they_ could handle it?

That was the last thing he needed to hear right now. It would honestly be better if she could tell him she hated him. At the very least that she didn't return his feelings. That way, it might not hurt as much to do what they had to do now.

She really did want to rip his heart out properly this time. She seemed to want to cut it out slowly, drop it on the deck in front of him and make him watch her stomp it to pieces.

His throat felt more strangled than ever as he continued to shake his head. "I really don't think we need to draw this out for any–"

"_Chakotay_."

Her tone, this time, was sharper than it had been in weeks, cutting into him again. Made him meet her eyes squarely and see the earnestness there. The slight tinge of…he was imagining the desperate hints under the calm, he decided.

"Trust me? And let me do this my way this time? _Please_?"

Oh, spirits, hell. He'd been through this before. Of course he trusted her, with just about anything.

_Except your heart_, a tiny presence in the back of his mind warned. What was left of his sense of self-preservation, he realized absently. But as he stared into her too blue eyes, he began to feel like he was in a dream. Under some other direction besides his own. So when she quietly asked him to go and sit on the bed, he found himself complying without even a token questioning of her intentions, his body moving stiffly, like a zombie from one of Tom's Saturday night ancient horror-vid viewings. The ones that were usually more comical than anything…

Did he look comical right now? He couldn't tell. She'd disappeared from view…

She'd come around behind him, and then he felt the weight of the bed shifting just in the back of where he was sitting. And surprise shot through him, laced with fear, and he started to turn and protest, but then her hands were heavy on his shoulders as she leaned into him with her weight, steadying herself and keeping him facing forward. The bed shifted further as she knelt behind him.

"I think this is going to be easier if I don't have to do it face to face," she was explaining softly.

He was just about to question that, too, because it sounded nothing like her when she threw him off all over again. Her fingers, which had never left his shoulders over the coarse Jehnz-yin tunic he still wore from the planet, began digging into him tentatively, working gently but firmly into the severe mountain of tension settled in his muscles.

"Kathryn?" His voice came out much higher than normal. "What are you…?" he managed to croak but got no further.

Her soft, dry chuckle washed over him, through him, but did little to reassure him under the mind-blowing circumstances.

"I never did return the favor," she offered as her hands continued working through his tension. "And from the feel of these muscles, I was right. You could use it. But I'm not nearly as good at it as you are," she warned, leaning around him just to where he could see her from the corner of his eye. "You're going to have to put up with my amateur attempts."

"No it's…fine," he replied quickly. Too fine was what it was. The feel of her hands kneading into his shoulders was like liquid pleasure, too potent for him to do what his self-preservation was screaming at him to do, which was to jump up, right now, and run. As far away from the sensation she was flooding into him with the intimate touch and the feel of her soft breath washing over his neck and the sound of her hushed voice so close to his ear as he possibly, humanly could. The images that were floating through his mind were really no longer even half way close to being decent, and he swallowed compulsively, a desperate attempt to moisten his bone-dry throat and tried a token, "I just…don't think you should be…"

"Shhh." She silenced him as she'd moved completely out of sight again. "Just listen. Try to relax and…don't interrupt me. There are things I have to say to you, and I don't think I'll have the nerve if you keep interrupting me. When I'm done, it's your turn. Deal?"

If she'd paused for just a second in the motions of her hands. If she'd leaned back from him by just a millimeter, he could have fought through the euphoria of her hands on him and of her nearness. He could have…but neither happened, and he was essentially helpless because of it. Hers, completely and utterly.

"Deal," he surrendered weakly. Barely able to groan the word out as she dug into the muscle right where he carried most of his tension, at the junction of his neck and shoulders, and he was lost. If he lifted his hands to touch her, even just to remove her hands from his shoulders, he couldn't guarantee of his actions that that would be _all_ he'd do anymore.

He hated himself inside and out for the weakness he displayed in that one moment. And the price he knew he was going to pay for it.

"Good."

Damn her, she didn't have to be enjoying her victory so much. She didn't have to enjoy the absolute control she was wielding over him right now, and he could see her smile as clearly as if it was right in front of him instead of over his head, but he could only let his head drop forward over his chest in further surrender as the slightest of groans escaped from him.

"When I died, I saw my father."

She felt the tension spring to his muscles beneath her fingers and didn't stop working but hurriedly continued, "No, Chakotay. I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't like before; it wasn't the alien with his matrix. At first I thought it was, but it wasn't. There was another alien there, yes, but first, there was my father. And I know _you_ know I don't believe in that sort of thing, but I have to tell you…if it wasn't my father, this time it was a damned good representation of him."

"What did he say to you?"

"Shh," she reminded him, thumping his back with her left hand, which paused for the occasion. "I'm getting there. No interruptions, remember?" He fell grudgingly but obligingly silent, and she continued, "I told him what I'd done, although I didn't really have to. He already knew. He knew that I'd intended to go alone, and he knew why. And he was disappointed in me. As disappointed as you were that I'd gone off without telling the rest of you what I intended to do." She shifted slightly behind him, moving her arms so that she could reach the front of his shoulders more easily and began working the smaller muscles there. "I yelled at him," she added quietly. "And I asked him what it was he expected from me. I told him how hard it's been for me out here, alone–"

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you're not, Kathryn."

His voice was a pained sort of quiet that she recognized with sorrow and she forgot to chastise him for interrupting him yet again. "No," she agreed, with a nod of her head he couldn't see and the slightest of pauses in her starting-to-ache fingers. "I know you have. And that's exactly what he said, too. I know that I'm not alone, Chakotay. I do know that. It's just that…sometimes, it still feels that way. I'm the one who has to make the decisions. I'm the one that has to bear the responsibility for the safety of the ship and the crew. And I'm the one that has to live with the choices I make, and have made, in the end."

This was a kind of candid he was only just starting to get used to from her. And despite how much he wanted to interrupt her, and to push his point home, and to keep her from saying the words he didn't need to hear to know were true, he didn't let himself.

Her fingers circled back around to his neck, where one hand began to work into the strain that came from leaning over the alien console most of the day and more liquid euphoria swept through him as she unlocked secret pockets of tension and further reduced him to gelatinized putty in her hands…

"I can't have a relationship out here, Chakotay."


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: **Please see chapter one.

**Notes:** A million thanks to Chesh for the read through/beta help.

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Six

* * *

They stood on the flight deck, waiting. Bimmah's inert form lay motionless at their feet, and despite the thick aura of expectation in the air, their faces remained expressionless.

Having never transported before, Bimmah was too terrified of the prospect to be taken conscious. Though they'd tried to explain to her that she wouldn't be harmed, the moment they'd gotten to the part of the explanation about the molecule scrambling (something they regretted trying to explain in retrospect), she'd broken down into another fit of hysterics.

They weren't Ellizas. They had neither the inclination nor the cruelty to forcibly pin the girl down and try and inject her with sedatives against her will as the Jehnz-yin brother and sister had. The two Starfleet officers simply waited for her to regain her calm, retreating back to their own part of the ship. It was Bimmah who had sedated herself – without informing the two of them before she'd done it. There had been a tense moment this morning when Kathryn had gone to Bimmah's room to check on her and discovered her lying on the floor, limbs akimbo and a glass of the juice she'd requested spilled all over the space beside her bed, right next to the crude hypospray of sedatives they'd left her to use at her own discretion. Janeway had feared the worst, but a check of the girl's Jehnz-yin pulse, once the captain had been able to locate it, affirmed that she was still alive. They could only guess that Bimmah had forgotten how swiftly those sedatives took effect. Fortunately, she hadn't appeared to have harmed herself with the subsequent fall to the floor.

They assumed Bimmah had taken the sedatives to spare herself the trauma of transport, but neither one of them was particularly pleased she'd done it without informing them of her intentions. Still, it didn't change anything now. They had no means of awakening her, and they'd agreed to take her to rendezvous with General Rimaz's ship. They would hold up their end of the bargain. Chakotay had carried Bimmah out to the flight deck, where he and Kathryn stood waiting now.

After several more moments of unbroken, reflective silence, three gleaming spots of metal appeared on the deck before them. By unspoken agreement Janeway was the first to move, stepping unsteadily forward to retrieve the three commbadges. For a moment after she straightened, she stood in the center of the deck, fingering the familiar design with the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips, although by the time she turned again to face him, her expression was blank.

Until this morning, they hadn't _really_ known that the Jehnz-yin had been on the level about returning them to their ship. They'd operated under the belief that they would be returned, but until Voyager had appeared on sensors, tiny parts of both of them had been resolving themselves to accepting that they had been lied to all along. That Voyager really _had_ cleared the area, and that Ellizas and Nyra had wanted them off planet before arranging for them to be killed in space, where they might be able to cover up evidence in their involvement more easily. Now, with concrete proof in her hand of the finality of their return, it was a moment to breathe a small sigh of relief as the tiny doubts were dispelled.

She held out one of the badges for him, and, as his fingers brushed the open palm of her hand, relinquished it. Turning, she bent down to pin a second one on Bimmah's chest.

It only took that long.

"_Tuvok to Captain Janeway._"

The glance they shared this time was most significant. Tearing her gaze away from Chakotay with some effort, Janeway tapped the badge she'd affixed to her own chest. "Janeway here," she acknowledged quietly. A small thrill of excitement humming through her. God, it felt good to be able to do that again. Even if this situation felt like a tragic rewrite of a few years ago in so many ways.

"It's good to hear your voice again, Tuvok," she assured him quietly. Sincerely. The glance Chakotay offered her then brought a tiny smile to her lips as he nodded, surprised, she could see, because he agreed with her.

Tuvok had not been permitted to record a reply to their single message, so it was the first time in three months that they'd heard any familiar voice from Voyager.

"_And it is good to hear yours, Captain. We're ready to initiate transport on your command._"

On her command. She swallowed the emotion in the back of her throat. "Beam the Jehnz-yin life sign directly to Sickbay first. I want the doctor to have a look at her, but assign her a security escort – I want her monitored at all times, Tuvok. I don't trust her."

"_Acknowledged."_

Bimmah shimmered, then disappeared.

And they were alone. Truly alone, for the first time in three weeks. The open comm link however, was noted by both. So as they stood side by side, much as they had almost three years ago, their eyes met in silence. Communicated just as much as they had the first time they'd been in this situation, exchanged everything they needed to without words.

This time, Kathryn reached out a hand to him. With a smile, Chakotay took it. Clasped it briefly in his.

He released her hand, and they both dropped their arms back to their sides as she faced forward again.

"We're ready, Tuvok," she declared.

The craved tingling sensation appeared and vanished, and then they were there. And it was silent.

She'd expected the transporter room to be packed, filled to the brim with noisy, cheering crewmen. She and Chakotay had preconceived the welcoming party down to the small details. Who would be where and how they would be crammed into the tiny room. What they would be saying, and how difficult it would be to understand any one of them as they all talked over each other in their excitement. Possibly, though, they would all have cheered in unison. Perhaps the transporter room doors would have to be open in order to accommodate more of them, spilling out into the corridor outside, they'd envisioned. Not because it was particularly what she or Chakotay would have _wanted_, but because they assumed the crew would have rallied around the occasion, using it to offset what must have been a spirit-crushing few months in this dark part of space.

She'd expected to have the inevitable excitement of the crew's boisterous greeting to buffer this moment.

Instead, they met silence. Only Tuvok and Ayala stood in the room, Ayala manning the controls, staring at them in open awe, and Tuvok waiting impassively below, standing in front of the raised control platform. Both men remaining silent for an interminable moment. She must look like hell, she realized absently, to have the two men so apparently speechless, and then she was summoning the smile spreading across her features without conscious effort.

Otherwise, Janeway had a half second to note the absolute appropriateness of the greeting pairing, to indulge in a swift visual sweep of the beloved walls and bulkheads before she inhaled, her twitching nostrils chasing the scent of home they instinctively sought, and the instant she did, the most peculiar sensation she could remember experiencing upon returning to her ship enveloped her as she stepped forward – a flash of suffocation as the unseen mantle descended once more upon her shoulders.

And it took her by complete surprise. Because she'd forgotten just how heavy it was. How well squeezed her innards were under its invisible mass and how grounded she was by the weight of the assumption – like gravity redoubled. Her smile froze in place, and in the process of stepping forward to greet them, she hesitated before actually stumbling just a half step backward.

Across the room, Lieutenant Ayala, who was never much of a talker by any standards, had been further moved towards silence by the sheer momentousness of the occasion. He had been content to draw in the appearance of the command team for several long seconds, to carefully note the way they looked worse for wear as he scrutinized them with a mixture of relief, concern and pleasure. It felt like it had been years instead of months, he thought to himself as he regarded them. And from the looks of them, their experience had been anything but a pleasure cruise these past few months. Chakotay was unshaven and even gaunt, by his standards, the dark circles under his eyes matching those of the captain's. She also was dreadfully thin and sporting obvious scars along the visible parts of her. As he watched her move forward, the oddest of expressions crossed her face, and she stumbled. He instinctively tensed, wanting to help her avert the disaster of a fall that seemed imminent, though he of course couldn't behind the transporter controls, but then Chakotay's hand on her arm steadied her immediately, and Ayala exhaled slowly. Chakotay hadn't even seemed to be looking at her, but his movement was swift. His hand withdrew immediately, and the casualest of comments from the first officer were actually the first spoken words passed among the four in the transporter room.

"We should get that leg looked at as soon as possible, Captain," Chakotay intoned calmly. And as she turned to look at him, her expression blank and inward, there was the barest flicker in his eyes only she could read that seemed snapped her out of it – whatever it was that had caused her uncharacteristic hesitation, and Ayala was finally moved to speak now that the silence was broken for him.

"Welcome back, Captain. Commander," he managed at last past the shock of actually seeing them standing in front of him.

"Indeed," Tuvok was agreeing. He too had waited until that moment to speak, but the Vulcan's motivations for the delay were anyone's guess. How he felt about their ungainly appearances was impossible to gage, too. He remained, to all appearances, impassive. Unsurprisingly.

"Thank you," the command team replied automatically, almost in sync as they both stepped down now from the transporter padd.

"What? No greeting party?" Janeway inquired wryly, as the limp she was working through became evident to both officers and she seemed to feel the need to distract the two men from staring at her in concern.

Chakotay only stayed close by, keeping his arm in a subtle position that would allow her to take it if she felt the need but she didn't do so. Instead, she moved straight for Tuvok, allowing herself to reach out a hand and rest it on his arm.

"I had thought you and the commander might appreciate a moment to yourselves upon your return," the Vulcan explained.

"Ah." Janeway's eyes sparkled. "That was thoughtful of you, Commander. It's good to see you. _Both_ of you," she stressed, her eyes rising to find Ayala's over the controls. The younger man nodded, his eyes drawn to Chakotay's, who also greeted him warmly before Janeway spoke up again, "Status?" And this time, her tone was all business, the warmth and personality that had been infusing her voice fading into the background.

"All systems functioning normally. We have received the supplies from General Rimaz and have been making use of them. The military has made no attempt to engage us, either verbally or physically, but we are maintaining a yellow alert until we've cleared this part of space." Janeway nodded approvingly at this revelation, and he continued, "Our Oncaveat passengers remain in relative good health as well, and are residing in cargo bays one and two."

"They're still here?" Chakotay inquired in surprise. The hint of warning at the back of his question.

Tuvok nodded. "We were unable to make our way to a planet suitable for relocation and had hoped to find one just outside the Jenhz-yin borders. The latest long range scans have indicated several possible sites for consideration."

Janeway nodded slowly, digesting the information and sorting it all into relevant courses of action and necessary questions. "How long until we reach the border?"

"At our current course and heading, we will pass out of Jehnz-yin territory within two weeks. We are holding position just long enough to bring you aboard. Shall I have the Jehnz-yin cruiser tractored into the shuttlebay?"

Janeway and Chakotay shared another brief look before Chakotay answered for both of them. "No. We have no way of knowing the ship isn't equipped to somehow damage Voyager, and we'd prefer not to place our trust in the Jehnz-yin any more than we absolutely have to."

It was Tuvok's turn to nod approvingly. "Understood, Commander. Captain." The Vulcan looked uncomfortable for the briefest of moments before venturing, "While I'm certain you both wish to avail yourselves of the sonic shower at the earliest opportunity," Janeway and Chakotay passed a rather chagrined look between them at the Vulcan's entirely undelicate way of reminding them they'd had no showers aboard the Jehnz-yin ship, "I must ask that our first stop be to Sickbay."

The two officers had colored, for a variety of different reasons. It wasn't as if they were _filthy _or anything, they both thought indignantly. They'd sparingly used the water available to bathe themselves, of course. But apparently, the Vulcan's nose was sensitive enough to have noticed the difference – to have noticed immediately. Further, they both knew precisely why Tuvok was insisting upon one location being their first stop, before anywhere else, and it had to do with more than their gaunt appearances.

"You want to ensure that we haven't been compromised during our time away from the ship," Kathryn acknowledged dryly. "We haven't been, but I don't suppose that's going to deter you…"

"Indeed, it will not. Nor do I truly believe that you would want me to be so easily swayed from following a sound security measure, Captain."

She sighed. Because, damn him, she'd been looking forward to a cup of coffee, more than anything else…

Not that it was prudent, considering the strain on ships' resources anyway, she ruefully admitted to herself. It wasn't something she could even justify, considering. And she also knew full well that, once the doctor got his photonic claws into the scans she knew he was going to take, she wouldn't likely see the outside of Sickbay's sterile walls for several hours afterward.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad, Captain," Chakotay murmured, the hint of a smile on his lips once again.

"All right. Let's get this over with," she more groaned than replied. Straightening her head and squaring her shoulders as Tuvok gestured for the command team to precede him out of the tiny room. "At least I'm going to have a cell mate this time," she whispered triumphantly at her first officer as the doors opened and–

The cheer that greeted them nearly knocked both officers back on their heels. They both froze, their jaws dropping open before they could catch themselves, and needing a full minute to take in the incongruous sight before them.

Instead of the beige they'd been expecting, the bulkheads were lined with black, red, yellow and blue; the corridor outside the transporter room was wallpapered over with the officers neither had seen in months but had so keenly missed, and their enthusiastic greetings and applause was like a thunderous wave of sound and spectacle neither one of them had been prepared for…

"You sneaky Vulcan bastard," Janeway actually hissed out of the corner of her broad, warmed to the core smile so that only he and Chakotay could hear her over the din of the crowd, "you could have _warned_ us…"

"You are correct, Captain. I could have," the Vulcan bastard in question agreed impassively. Confirming her suspicion that he'd known exactly what awaited them outside the transporter room doors. "But logic dictated that would have ruined the surprise."

She had time only to shoot him a look promising he'd pay for this, somehow and some way, before they had to step forward out of necessity to greet their crew, and the crowd all but overwhelmed them.

* * *

_Seeing Naomi Wildman at the center of the pack was touching, and the grin splitting her pretty little face was like a beacon in the crowd, drawing the command team forward. But even more heart-rending than her enthusiasm was the immediate realization that the girl was proudly clutching two steaming mugs, one in each of her small little hands._

_Out of years of instilled respect, discipline, the boisterous crowd managed to restrain themselves somewhat as the command team approached her. _

"_Crewman Wildman," Janeway acknowledged officially, lips twitching in that indulgent smile that always wanted to spread over her lips at the sight of Naomi. "Dare I ask what you have there?"_

"_Coffee – of course. And herbal tea for the commander." Naomi beamed through her carefully proper affect, handing the mugs to their respective intended recipients, who took them automatically. "We thought you would be thirsty, Captain," she solemnly explained._

_Janeway's heart fractured that tiny little bit at the girl's thoughtfulness. Naomi had always been like that. Sam had done a wonderful job of raising her, a feat for any Starfleet officer on active duty, much less a single parent. She took a second to flash a swift smile at the woman in question, who stood back against the wall just behind her daughter. Then, because Kathryn couldn't physically get down to the girl's level and make it back to her feet without falling, the captain settled for cupping the girl's up-turned face in her free left hand. "Thank you. That's exactly what I wanted. And it was very thoughtful of you." Her lips and tongue begged her to indulge as the steam sent luring siren calls to her olfactory senses and her mouth watered ridiculously, but the stirrings of guilt kept Kathryn from drinking as she stared longingly into the cup, and she sighed. "But I don't think I should," she imparted confidentially. Sadly, at having to reject the gift. "This is probably worth rations we shouldn't be wasting on non-essentials right now."_

"_Commander Tuvok said you'd say that," Naomi laughed, unconcerned and sharing a look with the Vulcan who remained patiently beside the command team. "Don't worry, Captain. It was sort of his idea… He said to tell you that, since you and the commander haven't been here the last three months, you have some rations owed to you." _

_The revelation brought sharp tears to Janeway's eyes, but she swallowed them back, turning to shoot Tuvok a raised eyebrow as she shook her head. She still hadn't quite forgiven him for the ambush, and she pointedly mouthed, "_Emotional_." _

"_No, Captain," Tuvok had to defend himself, his expression flickering at the accusation. "Logical."_

_Janeway wasn't buying it, however. "I'm still not sure I agree with your 'logic'…"_

"_Drink the coffee, Kathryn," Chakotay ordered calmly, already sipping at his own craved tea and patting Naomi's head appreciatively in gratitude. He swallowed, an expression of satisfaction melting into his eyes, but continued to address his comments to Janeway, "You know the doctor's not going to make it through the next few hours if you don't."_

She hadn't completely agreed with him, but, seeing that she was outnumbered, had relented and indulged, to Naomi's delight. That alone had made it worth it.

Now, hearing a hiss and feeling something at her neck, she drew slowly back into the land of the waking and had no choice but to agree with Chakotay as her unconscious reflections faded. She could tell from the grogginess, the haze over her brain that she'd been out for more than the half hour the doctor had projected before sedating her, and her annoyance was flaring immediately.

"Welcome back, Captain." Tom's familiar voice was her welcoming comment as she opened her eyes, and it was the second time today he'd used that particular phrase – it had _better_ be the second time today, she vowed. But her helmsman's voice was lacking in a certain enthusiasm it had held when they'd first arrived, she thought…

The doctor's solicitous visage replaced Tom's over her, taking over her thoughts as Tom moved out of her line of sight.

"You said it would only be a half hour, at most," Kathryn growled immediately, her voice still thickened from sleeping as she stared at him. "So why do I feel like I just slept eight hours?"

"It was more like five." This did nothing to dilute the glare she leveled at him, but the EMH had developed somewhat of an immunity by now. If he hadn't, he would never have been able to do his job properly, and besides that, some perverse streak in his programming actually had him glad to be seeing it, considering that he'd believed he never would again. "Aside from it being the only way I could ensure the two of you had at least some decent rest, you have the Jehnz-yin 'medical community' to thank for the long delay. The first two hours was spent simply undoing what their doctors had done. Your femur had to be re-sculpted. Some of the nerves in your left leg had to be removed because they were so damaged from the previous efforts to repair them." He scowled. "I essentially had to re-break you just so that we could properly fix you."

"Don't be _too_ hard on them, Doc," Tom suggested quietly, still out of her line of sight. "Without them, I don't think she'd be sitting here right now at all."

"I understand that," the doctor grudgingly agreed, not exactly brightening at the thought. But then, neither had any of his organic counterparts. And no one needed to dwell on that, he realized. He turned back to his patient. "How are you feeling?" the EMH asked, almost overly kindly.

She blinked up at him, scowling ever so slightly. Just because it felt like the natural thing to do in her current position, which was on her back, staring up at her chief medical officer.

She could at least remedy one of the two conditions, she decided, finally feeling up to pushing herself upright and doing so quickly, before he could warn her against it. "That depends," she grunted in answer as the tender muscles of her leg were jostled in the rising, "on what your findings are."

Knowing she'd ignore him, the doctor didn't even bother trying to stop her. He gritted his programmed teeth and resolved himself to watching with chagrin as she had difficulty in shifting her weight. Once she'd settled herself somewhat more comfortably, he felt free to announce, "Well, the good news is that you and the commander are indeed yourselves."

"We _knew_ that, Doctor," she mumbled, still trying to see straight under the bright lights through the glaze in her eyes. Her hand going to her forehead to chase away a vague, position-induced tension.

"Yes, but _we_ didn't," he replied smugly. "The other good news, as you've probably surmised, is that we've managed to fix the majority of your injuries while you were unconscious."

"Then what's the _bad_ news, Doctor?" Chakotay's voice asked, seemingly out of nowhere. Recovering more slowly, he was just groggily sitting up to the steadying hand of Tom Paris, who had administered a mild stimulant to counteract the sedatives in the commander's bloodstream.

Glancing over for the first time, Kathryn was surprised to see her first officer sitting on the bio-bed beside her, having assumed he'd have been released well before her, but she didn't have time to address the questions flitting through her mind, her attention once more drawn to the doctor, who was still focused on her.

His expression had turned decidedly grim. "If you hadn't made it back to Voyager, Captain, you'd have been dead within the year."

"What?" That caught her attention more fully than anything else he'd said so far. She exchanged a glance with Chakotay, who paled and swallowed before his gaze flicked back to neutral, and then she looked to Tom, whose eyes were cast down at the biobed in silent confirmation of the doctor's words. She turned back to him. "How…?"

"You were in the intermediate stages of liver failure when you arrived," the doctor expanded solemnly. "In fact, there was oxygen deprivation damage to most of your internal organs, including your brain, heart and kidneys, but it was your liver that was most severely affected. I'll assume you were in a moderate amount of pain?"

"Moderate," she reluctantly admitted.

"Bruising easily?"

That brought a dry chuckle from her. "It would have been hard to notice through the scars."

"Slight personality changes? Difficulty thinking clearly?"

The pain, she'd felt mostly everywhere and, after a while, hadn't noticed much anymore. As for the rest of it… She couldn't help thinking back to the moments when she'd first awoken on Ghanza Prime. The difficulties in recalling the specifics she'd wanted to remember.

Chakotay's head had turned to her, his expression somewhat stricken. And she knew she hadn't shared any of those smaller concerns with him, not having wanted to worry him any more than he had been already, but the personality changes she knew he'd noted. And they'd both chalked it up to psychological trauma, though Janeway felt that was too strong a term for her uncharacteristic hesitations towards the chancellor (and other things), but… Had there been an underlying physical concern fueling her difficulties, as well? A much more sinister one than either she or Chakotay had guessed?

It seemed so, from the doctor's words.

He took their silence as answer enough for his purposes and harrumphed. "There was no indication that the damage to your internal organs was addressed. Apparently, the Jehnz-yin 'doctors'," his lip curled in distaste, "weren't aware of the extent of the damage they had suffered."

"They were aware, Doctor," Chakotay corrected quietly. "The physician mentioned the liver damage. I'm just not sure they knew how to address it. Or how serious it was."

"I see. Well, we've repaired the damage now, of course…" He noted the somber atmosphere in the room, and though there was good enough reason for the dampened aura, he didn't think it strictly healthy for his two patients. Straightening, he deliberately looked to Chakotay with somewhat of a more cheerful air. "Commander, I'm pleased to inform you that you are fit to return to duty. While I would prefer to order you to your quarters for at least two full weeks of rest – not to mention a few decent meals," he saw the objection forming on the commander's face with a resolute sigh, "I'm well aware of how likely it is that's going to happen, given the current situation."

"How badly does he need it, Doctor?" Janeway cut in.

"I'd prefer it. But I don't believe it's life-threatening for him to be reinstated to active duty," the EMH admitted grudgingly.

"Chakotay?" she prompted, her focus on him across from her.

He gave her a small, reassuring nod. "I'm up to it, Captain. From Tuvok's briefing on the way here, the crew has everything pretty much in hand already. I can at least get started catching up on reports, though."

She nodded, satisfied with his answer, which from him was likely to be honest. "Return him to duty, Doctor," she ordered.

The hologram sagged slightly. "Very well. There are some discharge conditions, however. You can head into my office while Ensign Paris explains them to you in greater detail." At the odd instruction, nowhere near smoothly delivered, both Janeway and Chakotay stared at him, and he sighed deeply. "I need to speak with the captain in private regarding the rest of her prognosis." Forestalling the immediate question he could read on Chakotay's lips before he spoke, the hologram assured, "I expect her to make a complete recovery within the next few weeks, Commander."

Chakotay nodded, accepting that. He gratefully pushed himself to his feet, feeling surprisingly steady on them and offering a small smile to his rather forlorn-looking captain as Tom gathered the PADD he'd been entering his final readings into and followed him to the designated room.

Once they were alone, Janeway turned to the EMH resolutely. He looked like a man that had something he needed to discuss but had no idea how to go about bringing it up. Feeling the weight of a small stone sinking into her stomach at his facial expression, she all but sighed deeply, just as he had moments before. "I suppose you want to discuss some of the less grievous injuries you discovered."

The hologram, for once, was mostly compassion. "They weren't entirely surprising. There was the broadcast General Xi made. I had the dubious duty of observing…much of what took place." At her tightening expression, he offered an apologetic, "I'm sorry, but I had no choice, Captain. I needed to know how to treat you. Knowing what to expect would have cut down on much of the diagnostic preliminaries once we got you back."

She nodded curtly, her chin lifting but her expression entirely inscrutable this time. "I understand," was all she offered.

She also understood that strange current of awkwardness she'd thought she'd felt running through Tom's voice when she'd awoken. And his odd quietness. As though he'd been deliberately staying to Chakotay's side instead of hers the whole time and not quite meeting her eyes or interjecting into the conversation as often as he normally would have. It was in sharp contrast to his more characteristic, upbeat greeting of them when they'd first arrived in Sickbay, and Kathryn realized he'd probably seen the faint injuries the doctor was so concerned about now, too.

She didn't fully understand the reasoning behind the slap of mortification that realization produced in her system, but she knew it wasn't entirely grounded in logic and forced the thought into the back of her mind to deal with later…if ever.

"Unfortunately, it's been so long that it's not entirely clear from scans. We detected…injuries. Many of them seem to have healed naturally, so the nature of them has been somewhat obscured…"

He trailed off, miserably, and she realized what he was saying. What he was asking, even while trying _not_ to ask, and she hastily provided, "No, Doctor. I wasn't subjected to anything further than what you observed on that screen. What you saw…" her gaze dropped to her lap in spite of herself before she caught it and forced her head back up, "that was the worst of it."

He didn't look in the slightest bit reassured, she saw with some surprise. The sadness on his photonic face, in his eyes, was nothing like the relief she'd intended to put there, and her brow furrowed in concentration, trying to work out what reservations had him unable to quite repress the stern, almost willful resolve he seemed to be summoning now. She caught Chakotay's not-so-subtle glance out of the window to the doctor's office over the hologram's shoulder, but her attention was snagged when the EMH finally gathered enough will to venture forward with what he'd been wanting to say.

"Captain, you're aware that I've treated several of the Oncaveat from Senator Benzas's ship for similar assaults to the one we're discussing."

Her gaze snapped back to him. "Yes. I'm aware," she confirmed. Somewhat warily. "I read your reports when you had finished treating them."

"Precisely. So I'd ask that you recall how much experience I now have in this matter."

"Doctor…" her hand went once again to her temple to rub at the ever-gathering tension there, "what, _exactly_, are you getting at? Quickly, please. You have no idea how much work I have ahead of me after three months of being gone."

"Very well." He visibly shed any apprehension as he straightened grimly. "Can you explain how you accrued the bite mark on your neck, Captain?"

Oh hell. The color drained out of her face. She'd forgotten about that. Had grown so used to the sting of it every time she turned her head…

"I've only seen that particular mark on the Oncaveat women I've treated from the senator's ship. All six of whom had experienced one single abusive action in common. And this mark is clearly not as old as some of your other injuries. It would have had to have been incurred during your time on the Jehnz-yin home world."

This time, it was Tom's concerned face that caught her eye across the room through the glass, and she understood from his expression that he was anxious as hell and trying desperately not to show it. Most of his focus was on the outcome of the conversation out here, not on the conversation he himself was engaging in. He, like the doctor, was deeply concerned for her. She cringed inwardly, accepting that she had to do what she could to dispel that concern now.

She shook her head to clear the emotion from it and fixed her eyes firmly on the doctor's face. "There was…an incident with the chancellor just before we left. It was close," she found herself having to admit with a strongly repressed shudder, "but nothing significant came of it. I was able to knock him out before anything more happened. I'm fine, Doctor."

"You have no idea what kind of warning bells go off in my programming when I hear you using that phrase," he retorted sadly.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Really, Doctor. I'm all right. It was just a bite."

"A particularly nasty bite. Worse than any I've seen. Captain…" Once more, the hesitation crept into his face and voice, "I can certainly understand your not wanting to talk about it. But if something more…_did_ happen…I need to be made aware of it."

Her mouth dropped open at what he was saying to her. At what he, once again, wasn't saying outright.

He didn't believe her. He didn't…!

Righteous indignation swelled inside of her but it simply couldn't peak against that desperate concern she read in the hologram's eyes. At the veiled hint of it that she could see across the room in Paris's eyes, and her anger deflated before it really formed. Instead, sadness pricked her because of that concern, and she found herself sharply recalling the hours-long conversation she and Chakotay had had the night before. The explanations she'd provided, and the promises she'd made. And then, of all things, the faintest excuse for a smile was fighting to form on her lips.

"Am I really that bad, Doctor?"

He didn't seem to understand what she meant, his doubt mingling with confusion, and she shook her head.

"Do you _really_ think I would lie about something that serious? Just to get out of Sickbay or to avoid the consequences of admitting the truth?"

The look he couldn't help giving her in response to that was all the answer she needed. For the second time, she dropped her gaze.

The consequences of having experienced that kind of assault weren't even entirely different from those that she _had_ endured. It was just a matter of degrees, really. Both would have sent her to mandatory counseling and medical follow-up evaluations back in the Alpha Quadrant, and both were going to have her under the doctor's scrutiny for a while here. Again, it would probably be a matter of degrees, if anything.

But that the doctor feared her propensity for keeping him and Sickbay at arm's length to the degree that he outright couldn't trust her to tell him the truth – about something so serious – struck her profoundly in that moment. She knew she had plenty of things to work on already, as she and Chakotay had discussed at length aboard the Jehnz-yin ship, and she briefly considered adding this dimension of her relationship with her chief medical officer to the list.

Mentally, she took a swift review of the past four and a half years as it related to her interaction with the doctor. And as some of the more memorable exchanges between them, after the more serious injuries she'd walked out of this room with before allowing him to finish fixing came to mind, she couldn't help but chuckle. There were times when they really got into it, possibly more than anyone else on the ship.

"I must make your life a living hell sometimes, Doctor."

The EMH's programming had come up against a serious wall with that unexpected, inexplicable acknowledgment from Kathryn Janeway, and he found himself only able to stare at her, agape.

"I don't think I've ever stopped to consider your side of the equation before. Truly consider it, I mean." She shook her head. "It's your job to keep us all healthy. I understand that. I also don't think I can help being the way that I am. There are usually too many concerns on my mind to be able to prioritize injuries the way you would _prefer_ I would." Half a grin pulled the corner of her mouth. "I can't even promise to change it. But I'm sorry if I've made your job harder because of it. And I can give you my word that I'll at least _try_ to be more cooperative in the future."

He'd whipped out the tricorder and scanning wand about midway into her speech and was now determinedly scanning in the vicinity of her cranium. Ducking out from under his arm, she raised an eyebrow when he simply followed her. "What are you doing?"

"Taking another scan of your neural pathways," he tacitly explained.

"For…?"

"The brain damage I must have missed the first time around."

She couldn't help chuckling, even as she knocked his hand away, and he made a show of very _slowly_ replaced the tricorder on the instrument tray next to him. Seeing Chakotay reemerge from the doctor's office, followed by Tom, she tried to give both a reassuring smile and began pushing herself off the bio-bed to stand.

The doctor's hand was immediately on her arm and preventing her progress. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"I assumed we were finished here." A slightly milder version of the sinking sensation from before overtook her as she sized up his challenging affect. "Aren't we?"

"Not even close, Captain. I said we'd healed your _major_ injuries. Not all of them."

"They can't wait?"

"Did you…or did you not…just promise me that you would be more cooperative?"

"I promised to _try_," she muttered, already regretting it. Both Chakotay and Tom shot her and then each other shocked looks, with unsubtle side-long glances at the doctor's medical tricorder, as if they, too, were tempted to use it on her, and she repressed the growl forming in the back of her throat only with considerable effort. "How long will this take?" she gritted.

"I need at least several hours to address the remaining scars."

She was who she was. In spite of the good-intentioned break with character of a moment ago, the most attractive option to her right this moment was to tell him she'd lived with the scars this long and could certainly put up with them a while longer.

It was only the realization that _she_ wasn't the one who had to look at them that kept her seated. She couldn't see most of them, but everyone else could. Most of the scars wouldn't be visible when she was in uniform, but those that _were_ visible were not pretty, she knew. She'd caught Chakotay looking on them in sadness more than once, and she'd felt the eyes of many of the crew on them as they'd walked the packed corridor to the turbolift. Neelix in particular had been stricken by them, though he'd covered it up with the tact he'd been steadily acquiring over the past few years.

They were all too polite to mention the scars, but Kathryn had to admit to herself that it couldn't be good for morale for her to continue walking around looking like…well, what she looked like.

With a long-suffering sigh, she nodded her consent as Chakotay approached to stand beside her. She pointed at him accusingly. "This is your doing, you know."

"I have to say…I never, in my wildest dreams, expected you to take it this far."

She only glowered at him.

"But I'm proud of you, Captain," he nodded with a grin. "Tell you what. I'll bring by some of those reports you're probably itching to get your hands on. Which ones did you want first?"

"Engineering," she answered immediately. Brightening at the thought of not having to sit here completely disconnected from the rest of the ship the whole time, at least. "And Tactical and Operations. Astrometrics. I want the latest scans of the region as well as the scans from those planets Tuvok mentioned. And–"

"I'm sure that's more than enough," the EMH cut her off. "It's only a few hours, Captain. And you will be lying down for most of it. I doubt you'll be much in a position to read."

"I'll bring them for you, anyway," Chakotay whisperingly promised.

"Am I at least allowed visitors during my imprisonment?"

"I would prefer that you didn't." He looked highly annoyed at the idea. "This is a Sickbay, not a train station."

"A what?"

"A train station," Tom cut in happily. "You know…twentieth century locomotives that operated on a linear rail system and had a–"

"Right," Janeway interjected, stopping what she'd sensed intuitively was going to be a _long_ explanation. She turned back to the stoic hologram, thinking she should have known where the reference had come from in the first place. "I'm sure you can make an exception under the circumstances, Doctor." He remained unmoved, and she realized he was going to make her work harder than that. "Just a few visitors. It would help me justify the additional time spent," she wheedled.

He was immune to the glare…mostly. The smile, however…he'd yet to work out a defense against. He sagged as the determined wind was let out of his sails by that smile. "If it will keep you here and _compliant_ while I work, very well. One at a time. And if it gets out of hand–"

"I'm sure it won't, Doctor," Janeway cut him off, with a small smile for Tom, who'd grinned at the EMH's surliness behind his back. _That_ was the Tom Paris she knew and had missed, and he'd seemed to surmise from the atmosphere in the room that his earlier concerns had been more or less put to rest. As he and the doctor moved off to confer about who-knew-what, she leaned into Chakotay. "Send Neelix first. I didn't get to see much of him on the way here. And Harry, if he can be spared from the bridge now that everyone's returned to their stations."

Kim's face had been one of several she had missed from their insane welcoming party, had been one of the faces she'd most been looking forward to seeing, but of course not _everyone_ on the ship could be there to greet them. Someone had the man the controls and Engineering.

Chakotay nodded. "Done."

"How long do you need to take care of…everything you need to take care of?"

"I'm going to shower and get out of this sickbay gown," he looked down over himself with distaste even as she smiled. "And hopefully shave. Then I'll head to the bridge and start catching up on everything. A few hours, I guess?"

"Okay. It looks like about the same for me. Once I'm caught up on everything and finished in here," she made the same look of general distaste he had, and it was his turn to smile, "I'll want to meet with the Oncaveat senator who replaced Benzas." The smile faded from both their faces. "And then I think you and I have a meeting to attend."

"We do." Chakotay nodded a final time, knowing what she meant. It was just something they felt they had to do, and it was appropriate that they do it together. "I'll arrange it," he assured her. "But you have to admit…" he leaned down closer to ensure no one else would hear, "it's a _really_ good thing you drank the coffee."

She wasn't sure whether to smile or hit him, but after a moment, she opted for the former. "When you're right, you're right, Commander," she admitted.

"Can I get that in writing?" he teased, the smile this time crinkling the corners of his eyes and drawing her into them.

It wasn't quite the same smile with the new, sharp lines of his unshaven face, though. His arms as they braced him on the edge of the biobed were too thin, and her own answering smile faded just slightly again.

"Stop by the mess hall after your shower, Chakotay," she instructed quietly, "and get a decent meal into yourself, please. Don't let me find out from Neelix later that you haven't."

"Aye, Captain. But it had been high on my list, anyway. I'm not you, you know." He looked as though he wanted to say something more. Something he wasn't sure he should. The doctor and Tom approached the bed, and Chakotay straightened. "I'll see you in a bit," he whispered last for her benefit before accepting the PADD Tom held out to him and turning to go.

Kathryn watched in only half-mock dismay as he deserted her to the doctor's tender care, making his way to the doors at the doctor's insistence, and then Tom was instructing her to lie back on the bed.

* * *

Eight hours later, Kurra Nien glanced up from the blanket she was repairing as one of the yellow-shouldered Voyager officers entered Cargo Bay Two. That happened several times a day here, but usually it was several officers instead of just the one. Many times in the course of a single day, several officers could be seen bringing food from the mess hall, or occasionally supplies the senators had requested, like blankets. With over fifty of her fellow Oncaveat in this temporary home, the Voyagers were constantly coming and going in order to satisfy the Oncaveat needs.

When it was one officer, however, that meant one of the senators was being summoned to a conference with the aliens. Usually, it was Narrus, now that Senator Cori was gone. But he'd just returned not that long ago. Could the Voyagers really be summoning him again, so soon?

The humans were celebrating, she knew. It was in the cheery expressions of each officer's face, had been all day. Their captain and their commander, who had both been presumed dead, were alive and had been reunited with the ship. And the Oncaveat were happy _for_ them, of course, but they themselves really had little to celebrate… It hadn't done a great deal for the mood in here.

She glanced over at her closest companion since she'd arrived on the ship. He looked a little better today. Though he rarely got up from his bunk anymore, he didn't have to. She'd made it her personal priority to see that he had everything he needed, and it had given her the purpose she hadn't been able to find for herself during her first two months on this ship.

When she'd first been brought here, she still hadn't been talking…her voice had been so rusty from the year of using it for little more than occasional, sporadic screaming. She'd been terrified, really. Of all the shiny things on this ship, of the smooth-skinned aliens in their colorful shoulders with the instruments always at their sides. They smiled, she'd noted, watching this new world around her with huge, wary eyes, but then…so had the Jehnz-yin. Smiles, as Kurra had learned, didn't necessarily mean friendship. She'd been afraid of the humans, at first. Unable to speak more than a few words at a time, and those hardly audible to whoever was questioning her. Talking, it had been conditioned into her, more often than not brought pain. She'd learned to do whatever possible to avoid pain. And she'd been terrified to be reunited with her people, especially. Wondering what they would think of her. Of all that she had endured. Wondering what they might think of the fact that she had survived, when so many of her companions in captivity hadn't. Being "free", she'd discovered, was just as terrifying a prospect as being a captive had been.

But Yurros had kept her close to him, doing the talking for both of them. To pass the time while she recovered, he'd told her stories about his tribe. His childhood. Most of his stories, however, centered around his "friend", Senator Accor. Shasta had been her name. He'd told Kurra again and again that the senator had been where Kurra was now, and that Shasta had been able to fight her way back from the horrors of her captivity. If Shasta could do it, Kurra could, too, had been his constant reasoning. He'd promised to introduce the two women once Shasta met up with Voyager. She had gone to help rescue the alien captain, he'd explained. Soon, any day, he'd maintained, they would be returning to the ship together…

It had become apparent to Kurra three weeks ago that the "friend" Yurros had spoken so highly of had been more than just a friend. The night he'd awoken them all, screaming out in a way that every Oncaveat recognized, Kurra had finally realized that Yurros and Shasta had in fact been bond mates, in spite of the priest's position and the senator's. And for Yurros to have awoken screaming the way he had, it meant Shasta would not be meeting up with Voyager.

Ever.

That was the night in which Kurra had found purpose, however. She ached for the first friend she'd had in so long, and he'd been devastated – still was, to a large extent. It would take months, even years to properly recover from the loss of a bond mate. She had occupied herself with caring for her friend as best she could. Making sure he ate, in spite of his lack of appetite, and in spite of his protests. She made sure he had clean blankets and enough to drink, and she also began talking, just to distract him from the loneliness and mourning of his own grieving thoughts.

In surprise, Kurra's attention was drawn from memory to present reality. More specifically, her attention was drawn to the middle of the room, where the gold-shouldered human had been conferring with Senator Narrus. As Narrus pointed squarely in Kurra's direction, the young human woman clearly started towards them. She was headed directly for _them_, Kurra realized in astonishment – and some fear, if she was honest.

"Mister Yurros?" the young woman ventured tentatively as she reached them.

Yurros, turning over in surprise under his blankets, blinked up at the newcomer. Nodding belatedly as his mind took a moment to catch up with her inquiry. "Yes. I'm Yurros."

"I've been asked to escort you to the bridge, sir. Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay would like to speak with you."

"About?" Yurros prompted, more than surprised at the request.

The human shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't told that. Can you come with me, please?"

Yurros nodded. "Of course. Just…give me a minute."

"Can I go with him?" Kurra inquired softly. Surprising herself as much as Yurros as she spoke up.

The young woman was surprised by the question, too, and Kurra could see the almost imperceptible lines of regret forming around the woman's bright brown eyes before her refusal could even be formed on her alien lips, so Kurra hastened, "Please. He's still not…well. He has trouble walking."

"I'll be…all right," Yurros rasped, trying to push himself upright and swaying for his troubles.

The young woman paused, the polite refusal she had indeed been preparing for the equally polite girl caught in her throat. With an appraising once-over of the man huddled in the blankets and a second assessment of the girl's intentions, the human's expression softened. "Let me see what I can do." She withdrew to a less-crowded alcove and tapped her shiny metal badge, conferring with someone who wasn't in the room.

"You don't have to…" Yurros was trying to assure her. In spite of his devastated condition, he had never lost his concern for Kurra through it all. Ever mindful of the ordeal she'd endured and its very real consequences for her. "I can go myself. I know you don't like going out among them. But they're good people, Kurra. They've helped you and the rest of the prisoners from Osalik, haven't they?"

Kurra nodded, biting her lip. They had helped her. When she'd arrived aboard Voyager, her first stop had been to the formidable room they'd called "Sickbay". She had spent hours in that room, though she'd been almost too terrified to enter it and certainly afraid of the imposing funny man with the blue shoulders that had worked over her to heal her various injuries. Yurros had remained beside her through it all, however.

Kurra's parents would stir in their graves if she did not return the kindness.

"If they'll let me, I want to go with you," she affirmed. More steadily than she really felt on the inside. "You still have trouble walking. You need someone to lean on."

Yurros's eyes lit admiringly, if sadly. "You're as strong as she was," he approved softly. "You're going to make it, Kurra," he repeated to her, as he had countless times before. "You'll get your life back before you know it."

Kurra refrained from asking just what kind of life that would be. A refugee, just like the others in this room. That was what she was, what they were. The humans _were_ kind, were sharing all they had and sheltering them from Jehnz-yin hostility, but if a place wasn't found for them to resettle, how long would they all be stuck in this room? How long would this institutionalized compartment be her life, her reality? She longed for open skies and solid ground beneath her. For freedom, and open space. Would she ever see any of those things again?

The officer had returned to them, and it was clear from her pleased expression what her response would be even before she spoke, "The captain will let you accompany him."

Yurros smiled softly, squeezing Kurra's hand as she offered her arm for him to lean on, and he rose. They walked slowly out of the cargo bay, allowing themselves to be led into the turbolift and out onto the main center of the ship, the bridge. Kurra's wide eyes took in the gleaming silver, the soft yellow lights blinking over the marvelous technologies she had only ever imagined, and then their brief tour was over as they were led into a small conference room. Two of the humans sat at one side of a long table, and both rose to greet them. They both had red shoulders, Kurra noted.

"Yurros?" The woman asked.

"Yes. And this is Kurra Nien."

"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. This is Commander Chakotay."

The man was vaguely familiar, but it was the woman who drew much of Kurra's attention. She looked too small to be captain, Kurra decided, shyly looking her over. But she did have a presence about her that conveyed a woman who was indeed in charge – and knew it. And she had a sort of rasping, warm voice that Kurra instinctively liked. She was surprised at first to not see any scars or signs of mistreatment evidenced on the woman's person, though. Hadn't the Voyager captain been held by the general…? Then she remembered belatedly about the wonders these humans could work with medicine, having experienced much of it personally, and Yurros's voice broke into her thoughts.

"The commander and I have already met," Yurros explained, with a respectful nod in Chakotay's direction. "And I believe the commander has already met Kurra, too. Though not formally."

Kurra realized then who this man was. A shock of fear shot through her as he turned a soft smile in her direction. A smile completely at odds with everything she knew of him...

_That_ was why he'd seemed vaguely familiar. This was the dark man that had entered her cell back at Osalik! This was the curt man she'd been just as terrified of as she had been of the Jehnz-yi he'd felled so skillfully. So unremorsefully. Then, sharp words and curt instructions were all he'd uttered, all he seemed capable of uttering. There'd been none of the kindness, the polite deference he showed now in indicating for the two Oncaveat to sit. When he quietly offered to get them both refreshments, Kurra could only shake her head in mute disbelief at him. It must be a mistake, she decided, edging as close to Yurros as possible.

The two humans shared a glance between them. As though unsure of where they wanted to begin whatever conversation they were intent upon having.

When they'd all settled into their seats, Yurros smiled as kindly as he could at the officers through his haggard features. "And what is it that I can do for you, Captain? Commander?"

Again, they hesitated, the commander finally nodding at the captain, who took a breath and turned to face them fully. "I was hoping it would be a matter of what we could possibly do for you, Yurros. We wanted to talk to you…about your bond mate. Senator Accor."

"She died…for me, Yurros," Chakotay ventured quietly. "She helped save _both_ of our lives. And while we knew her, Senator Accor demonstrated courage and conviction that brought honor to her people. We thought you deserved to know just how much."

Janeway took up the thread again, to the tearing in Yurros's great grey eyes, "We wanted you to know exactly what we owe to your bond mate, Yurros. We also felt you deserved to hear about…how…" she paused. "We thought you should know about the time we spent with her on Ghanza Prime."

"If you're willing to listen to our story, of course…?" Chakotay prompted.

Tears leaking slowly over his furred cheeks, Yurros nodded slowly in gratitude. "Yes, Commander. Captain. I think…I would like that."

Beside him, he was barely aware of Kurra softly squeezing his hand as the humans began their tale.


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: **Please see chapter one.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

* * *

Janeway glanced over the table in front of her, her eyes coming to rest on a single, conspicuously-vacant seat, and her heart sunk into her boots.

But she kept her bland expression in place, and steeled herself before speaking up casually.

"Where's Harry? You told him about breakfast, didn't you, Tom?"

"Uh…" Paris glanced over at his captain briefly, as though in surprise. "Yes, ma'am…I did. He…had something to take care of this morning. He said to tell everyone he'd take a rain check."

But the explanation was stuttering more than smooth, as would have been expected of her generally slippery helmsman. And worse, both his eyes and B'Elanna's had reverted to their plates, Neelix's to his tray, and the merriment and barely contained vivacity of the whole table was definitely muted at her inquiry. Fortunately, no one else in the crowded morning mess hall seemed to notice the change in the gathering of senior officers, and the joie-de-vivre wasn't dimmed in the slightest throughout the rest of the room.

Janeway scrutinized the fallen, stricken-blank countenances before her ever-so-briefly before giving a curt nod. "All right." Her acknowledgement was deceptively light as she took another bite of what Neelix had taken the liberty of naming "waffles", briefly locked eyes with Chakotay beside her and dryly mumbled, "Forget I asked."

Harry had been invited to join them this morning, during what was mostly a show for the rest of the crew: she and Chakotay, along with the previously harried senior staff members, all together, healthy and present for the reassurance of the general population. And it seemed to be working thus far. Though Harry's absence – yet again – stung, she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that atmosphere by giving the slightest indication that there was anything the senior staff was worried about. Rumors could spiral out of control on this ship faster than on any other she could remember serving upon, as she wryly reflected to herself.

She turned instead to Seven (whom she'd invited as well) with a smile plastering on her face. "How are those projections coming? Have you managed to narrow down our options yet?"

The table breathed a collective sigh of relief at the change in topic, with the subtle exclusion of the first officer. For his part, Chakotay looked vaguely pensive, but his pensiveness turned darker still as he caught B'Elanna staring at him somewhat guiltily before quickly turning her attention to the conversation between Janeway and Seven. But that slight, unguarded widening of the chief engineer's eyes had been enough.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he zeroed in on his new target, and he could tell from the stiffness only he could detect in her body language that she knew she was in his cross-hairs and didn't like the sensation one bit. _Too bad, _he thought pitilessly.

B'Elanna knew something, knew exactly whatever bug it was that was up Harry's ass that had him so obviously avoiding the captain. Chakotay's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He'd pin her down after breakfast. Once she spilled – and they both already knew that she would, especially when he used the soft voice on her – _then_ he would have an idea of what he was dealing with, and he could discreetly pull Kim aside at some point during duty shift and fix his attitude for him.

It was bothering the hell out of Kathryn, was bothering the hell out of him, too, if it came to it. But he wasn't the one Kim was avoiding, and Chakotay really couldn't think of a single reason for the Asian to be giving the captain the cold shoulder the way he had been this past week. It had gone unnoticed at first, with all there was to do on a ship this size running on such tight resources while dancing around a hostile, tentatively allying fleet of warships, but in the last day or so it had become painfully evident that Kim didn't particularly care for the captain's company at the moment. Chakotay could now see that others were aware of it, too, and that was why it had to stop. Judging from the few, one-liner mentions Kathryn had made the past few days about it to him in private, she wasn't entirely surprised about Kim's reaction. But she also hadn't been inclined to elaborate on the subject, either. It was between the two of them, she'd said, and she expected him to get over it eventually.

Chakotay must have missed something that had gone down between them, somewhere, but he _would_ be getting to the bottom of it. If she wasn't willing to handle it, he would have to. For the sake of morale as a whole. Not to mention discipline…

He could have used Neelix, during any of the daily sessions he'd immediately worked into his routine to try to begin dealing with Neelix's residual trauma from his experience at Osalik, of course. But he couldn't bring himself to use confidential counseling sessions meant to help the Talaxian to try to get to the bottom of a completely unrelated matter. Especially one so serious. He wouldn't do that.

And he also didn't need to pry into _why_ Harry had the cold avoidance attitude, either, he realized as he pondered the situation – he just needed enough confirming evidence to confront the ensign and to put a stop to it. B'Elanna would give him that much.

He'd thought Kim more mature than that, Chakotay reflected dourly to himself, just as smattering bits of the conversation around him began to penetrate the intense bubble of concentration he'd erected around his brain.

"As far as we've been told, General Rimmaz still wants to meet with Voyager tomorrow." Kathryn's voice was informing the others of the latest communication – if it could be called that – from the new Jehnz-yin first general.

"Will he be taking the Jehnz-yin girl?" Neelix queried. He still hadn't left the table, though he'd only stopped by to offer half refills on the pungent fruit juice he was serving for breakfast. It was rumored to be made with Jehnz-yin rations bits as well as fruit from the hydroponics bay, and judging from the odor permeating the entire table due to the pitcher's presence, it wasn't too outrageous of a rumor.

Chakotay declined the Talaxian's "offer", managing to stop himself from crinkling up his nose in disgust as he supplied, "We've broached the topic with him, but he isn't pleased about it. He wants to meet her first."

"Well, he'll have to take her," Janeway clarified sharply. "She isn't staying with us. To be clear," she directed her next statement more to Neelix than to the others, who already knew the situation, "I've agreed to meet with him only for appearances' sake."

Neelix nodded apparent understanding, but just then, his name was heard from the table at the far side of the room, where Chell, Andrews, and Jenny Delaney were seated with several others, and had been having a boisterous conversation that kept ending in punctuated laughs, half-shouts and general gaiety. They were quite the lively bunch, for being gathered at this tender hour of the morning, as the others had all reflected to themselves at least once already. The Talaxian went reluctantly, apologizing and rather proudly muttering something about it being the juice's fault he was so popular this morning.

"Is the girl still in sickbay?" B'Elanna inquired as Neelix retreated from the table. Pointedly ignoring the way she could feel Chakotay's eyes tracking her smallest movements now.

"No. The doctor moved her to temporary quarters on deck nine," Tom supplied. "He didn't want her upsetting the Oncaveat patients still reporting for daily follow-up treatments." _Or the captain, for that matter_, he didn't add aloud. She was still reporting to sickbay…_voluntarily_…every morning so the doctor could monitor her progress, also. To his great surprise. In fact, he'd walked her down to the mess hall this morning from the doctor's office. He didn't know whether to be worried about that or not…

Beside him, B'Elanna cleared her throat.

"Well. If that's all this morning, Captain?" she let the question trail off, meeting Janeway's eyes, who nodded, and B'Elanna rose, taking her tray in hand. "Then I'll see you all later in the afternoon briefing – Carrey and I are getting an early start on the plasma injectors."

Janeway waved vaguely in her direction, dismissing her from the informal gathering. "Let me know how it goes, B'Elanna."

"Of course, Captain." The half-Klingon nodded, turning to make her way for the recycler when she froze up just barely to Chakotay's voice cutting over the slight distance she'd managed to put between herself and the table.

"Wait up for me. I'll walk you down. I wanted to talk to Vorik about those upgrades to the–"

"Commander, if it's not urgent, I had something I wanted to discuss with you on the way up to the bridge," Janeway broke in seamlessly, rising also. Her blue eyes rested on him, waiting for his answer.

With a single glance in B'Elanna's direction, he reluctantly nodded. "All right. I'll stop by later, B'Elanna," he added pointedly as she continued backing away from the table.

"Well…" Tom cleared his throat as Torres left without a backward glance, even to him. "I guess that leaves Seven and I to thank Neelix for the wonderful repast." He grimaced slightly at the remains of his meal.

During times like these, with such a crunch on resources, he'd be expected to finish his meal, too. No one wasted food under these circumstances, whether it was putrid-tasting or not. It just wasn't done. Unfortunately, this unwritten rule had largely escaped the ebullient Neelix over the years, and it usually gave him a boost in confidence with regard to what he called his "creative resource stretching" that only ended in even more torturous and adventuresome recipes.

And no one had yet had the heart to set him straight on that misconception. Given his recent experience, no one was likely to be cruel enough to point it out to him this time around, either. There was no hope of an end in sight.

As if she'd heard his thoughts, Janeway leaned down over the table conspiratorially. "Is it really true no one told him Chell had been cooking for the crew while he was recovering?"

Tom grinned at that. "Nope. He still thinks we had to fend for ourselves."

"And Chell didn't tell him?"

Paris shook his head. "Actually, it was Chell's idea, Captain. He only took the job on the condition that no one 'rat him out' later."

The smile she gave then – which he caught the briefest hint of before she turned it approvingly across the room to the of course deep-in-conversation Bolian – was reminiscent of the smile he was used to seeing months and months ago. Her smiles since she'd returned had been rather fatigue-laced, until this moment. And Paris had the sensation that she was really on the road to recovering from whatever had occurred while she was at Osalik, and his own grin took on a hint of rightness it had been missing – which he himself was entirely unaware of.

Across the room, however, many of the crew noted both officers' smiles. Noted how the hitherto-missing elements of those smiles were once again present. And the mood in the mess hall brightened just that little bit that had been missing, that no one else had really noticed, either. Slowly, very slowly, the universe seemed to be righting itself again.

"I'll walk you out, Commander," Janeway reiterated as Chakotay got to his feet, too.

As they entered the corridor and were assured of the coast being clear, she wasted no time in getting to her object. "Don't do what you were going to do, Chakotay," she intoned quietly...grimly.

He feigned innocence, just in case she was off in her assumption. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me." She poked him in the ribs as they kept walking. "We both know what you were going to do."

"I still don't follow you…" he frowned.

"Yes, you do. You were going to _follow_ B'Elanna. So you could shake her down for answers about Harry's most recent absence."

Damn, had he been that obvious? He shot her a sidelong glance as they continued walking, realized fully how well she knew him and sighed. "It has to be addressed, Kathryn."

Her shoulders slumped slightly. "I know."

"And if you're not willing to…"

She put her hand on his arm, stopping him in mid-stride. "I understand that it has to be taken care of. But I'll be the one to do it. Is that clear?"

"Okay." He nodded, accepting her at her word as they resumed their progress, yet needing more by way of explanation into the cause of the problem in the first place. It was bothering him too much not to know… "But what is it? I just don't understand. What is it he feels so justified in being so angry at you for? What did I miss?"

The smile that had beamed at the crew from across the mess hall was nowhere in evidence as they entered the 'lift and he voiced their destination for the computer.

"You can't think of a few things _you've_ been upset with me about over the last few months?" When he only stared pointedly back at her, Janeway sighed as the doors closed around them. "It's probably a few things, if I had to guess. And much of it just might be justified, if I'm going to be completely honest about it."

He shook his head in disagreement. "I don't see how–"

She sighed again in interruption, turning and fully facing him with resolve. "He's upset with me for rescuing him first. He's angry that I didn't go straight to Neelix, and he probably feels Neelix suffered more than he should have in the time it took to get Harry out of his cell."

"Harry was the certain rescue," Chakotay defended her automatically, his resentment rising along with his voice at the unfounded nature of the theoretical grudge possibly being held against her. "It's clear protocol to–"

"_I_ know that," she cut over him, placing her open, steadying hand on his arm to quiet him. "And _you_ know that. Deep down, so does Harry. But that doesn't make it any easier for any of us to live with the fact that it's still true, does it?" He said nothing to that, regarding her sadly, but knowing she wasn't finished.

"Neelix did suffer unimaginably because of that decision, and he might not have had to endure as much as he did if I'd gone for him first." He opened his mouth to object this time, or so she assumed, but she wasn't ready for him to interject again just yet and continued, "And that's probably only a part of Harry's problem with me. He's upset that I tricked him onto the Flyer without telling him why so I could sacrifice myself to get them both back here safely. He's probably about as angry as you were that I made that choice in the first place without so much as consulting the rest of you, and that I intended to give my life from the beginning." She paused thoughtfully. Sadly. "And unless I've completely missed the mark on that boy, everything I've just mentioned is probably superficial to the real issue." He gave her a questioning look, and she sighed again. "He's more upset with himself than he really is with anyone else. For letting me do it all without his realizing, for not being able to stop me – and probably mostly because he wasn't hurt as badly as the two of us were."

His annoyance, his own resentment had completely deflated by the time she reached the end of her explanation.

"Oh." He really hadn't considered any of that, Chakotay realized, as the weight of all she'd said penetrated for him. And he winced, because he understood all of it now with just those few sentences. Why Harry was acting the way he was. Why she hadn't wanted to talk about it or to address it – to him _or_ to Harry.

He swallowed. "That's going to be a heavy conversation. And hard to do, walking a line that tight. If even a fraction of his feelings are justified…"

"Exactly."

Quietly, he ventured, "Are you up to it?" He didn't particularly like how slowly she was recovering. While the doctor was confident that she was progressing as expected and had warned them it would be slow going, Chakotay knew she still didn't sleep particularly well, and the circles under her eyes weren't fading very fast. Her weight was proving slow in coming, and her skin still hadn't regained much of its normal healthy glow. Makeup hid a lot of it, but not all. Not enough of it for him not to notice.

He knew the weight, and probably much of the energy, would be faster in coming once the restrictions on replicators and rations were lifted, for both of them, but none of that made him feel particularly better about the situation _now_.

She smiled sadly at him. "I'm up for it because I have to be. This is between the two of us. It's not right for this to play out between anyone else but him and me."

He did have to agree with that, now that she'd let him in on the inner workings of the problem. At any rate, the 'lift stopped and the doors opened out onto the bridge, signaling the end of their conversation.

For now, at least.

**

* * *

  
**

Rimmaz was an ass. There was little else to it, no other way to put it.

He didn't give any indication of being intimidated by not having brought a security detail of his own aboard. The security team knew the captain had given him clearance to bring one other person with him, but Rimmaz had sneered condescendingly at her offer. He'd opted to come alone.

And he seemed to think it was his duty to make up for his lack of entourage by interjecting, into the short conversation from the transporter pad to the conference room, as many snide and disgusting comments as he possibly could.

"I've been told," he swaggered beside his security escort, smirking at them, "you have nearly a hundred Oncaveat aboard."

"You'll have to ask the captain about that, General," Andrews replied tersely, too trained to confirm the general's correct guess in any way.

If Rimmaz Benn's questions, comments could be remotely considered less than a direct insult, they at least answered him, though. The insults, they simply acted as if they couldn't hear and ignored completely.

The well-trained team ignored him, for the most part.

"I don't have to ask her _any_thing. She's fortunate I'm here at all. I haven't yet decided whether or not I'm going to blow your shiny little vessel out of space. Depends on her cooperation. And my mood," he half snarled, half sneered. Obviously baiting them.

They said nothing, turning down the next corridor, continuing to lead the way to what would ultimately be the alternate entrance to the conference room. The captain refused to allow the general to set one foot on her bridge – something the rest of them agreed whole-heartedly with. Aside from what had occurred with the captain at Osalik, many of them, security especially, had had run-ins with the Jehnz-yin military themselves. They had seen enough with their own eyes to find the mere presence of this soldier on their ship distasteful.

"I hope you've at least put the Oncaveat scum to good use. You aren't just letting them leech off you like the furry, overgrown parasites they are, I trust? An idle Oncaveat is a worthless Oncaveat…a waste of atmosphere and space."

Again, they maintained their stony silence, gesturing the broad-shouldered soldier into the turbolift ahead of them.

He didn't seem bothered.

"Tried any of their women yet?" he snickered knowingly. "They're ugly creatures, I know. But some of them aren't so bad, in dim lighting. If you don't mind all the screaming, of course…"

Despite his best efforts, Ayala's fingers, which had hovered over his phaser the entire walk, took the compulsive form of a clenched fist.

"No?" Rimmaz took their silence for an answer in the negative. "Well if you're not going to make good use of them, send them on to us. _We'll_ take good care of them, you can be sure of that. I, for one, wouldn't mind a diversion or two, and it's not very often you catch a big enough batch of them to have many options anymore. Most of them hardly last past the first five or six of us. You've killed 'em before you hardly even know it, and the party's over before it's begun. But with as many as you've got, some of 'em would have to last a while, don't you think?"

His cold, callous laughter was impossible for Ayala to stomach. Only the swift, vehement shake of Andrews's head beside him jerked him out of his narrowing focus on the general's huge, knobby head and allowed the security officer to maintain his silence – and his poise.

"'Course, you've got your own women you travel with, from what I've heard, so maybe it's not so much of a problem for you…you've got plenty of options. Tell me…are your women easy to train, or do they take work?"

They wouldn't give him the satisfaction of responding, as Andrews's look pointedly reminded him. Ayala covertly nodded curt reassurance to his partner that he wouldn't rise to the Jehnz-yin's bait. "Take the left, General," he gritted through clenched teeth as they came to a junction between corridors.

Rimmaz missed the exchange occurring slightly behind him as he obliged and the team continued to walk.

"So. What's your captain like, boys?"

They ignored him this time for lack of a clue how to respond or for knowing where the general was headed with his inquiry, even as they automatically stiffened and sensed it wouldn't be in any direction they cared to explore with him.

"She's brave to meet with me at all, I'll give her that," Rimmaz continued, oblivious to the chilly reception. Again, his sharp, rasping bark of laughter sent chills of revulsion down the humans' spines. "After what Xi did to her, I'm surprised she's able to form a coherent sentence. But I'd been saying he was slipping in his old age. Now if _I'd_ had her…" a slow grin spread out on his face as the security team tensed behind him and he glanced back at them and noticed, "it would have been a different story. She wouldn't be walking, let alone taking, I can tell you that!"

They tuned him out. They struggled to tune him out. The door to the conference room was looming just ahead of them…

"Then again, maybe that's the point of her insisting I come here, eh? Maybe she developed a taste for us while she was down on that base in Xi's tender care. Maybe she's hoping I can give her something that commander of yours can't…"

This time, Ayala had to channel all his own exploding fury into pulling Andrews back before he could make a move, and if he'd had to put into words what it cost him to do it, he'd have been hard pressed to do so, but there was good reason for exercising restraint. "He's not worth it," the lieutenant reminded his companion – and himself – in a furious mutter, shaking his head. When Andrews looked entirely unconvinced of that fact, burning ebony eyes locked onto General Benn's mocking face, Ayala sympathized painfully with him. "_Hit him, and she's going to want to know why_," he urged intently, low so only Andrews could hear him.

What Ayala said made sense – unfortunately. Andrews wasn't willing to make his captain sit through the explanation of the disgusting comments the general was spewing, much less to have to punish him for losing his professionalism in response to such crude, elementary taunts. He nodded curtly, indicating his grudging agreement with the sentiment, much as Ayala had done seconds before.

For his part, Rimmaz only laughed at the exchange. He couldn't quite hear it, but he could guess the nature of it. He particularly enjoyed the smoldering look on Andrews's face, which hadn't dimmed by much. "Struck a nerve, did I? Too close to the truth for you boys to handle?" He shrugged. "It's your own fault. That's what you get for following a _woman_, after all. What in the hell'd you _expect_ him to do with her when he caught her?"

Rimmaz wriggled his gargoyle's brow in triumphant mockery, trying to push the human over the edge, but Andrews had regained the control he needed to shake Ayala's hand off his arm and resume his proper place at Ayala's side, just behind the new first general.

Much to Rimmaz's disappointment.

"Let's go, General," Ayala ordered coldly, much less politely than he had before. Gesturing with the now-drawn phaser to make a point about who was in control here, Ayala was at least reassured to know that they would be remaining in the room for the entirety of the meeting. Reassured on the one hand, and not so much on the other, that was.

There was about as much chance of Rimmaz behaving himself in the captain's presence as there was of a Tom Paris joining a Vulcan Monastery.

She was standing at the head of the conference table when they entered, the first officer and security chief on either side of her. Ready to face the Jehnz-yin the way they should be faced, united as one. The lighting was dim, another concession to their dwindling energy reserves, but it only served to reinforce the atmosphere of no-nonsense she, Chakotay and Tuvok presented, highlighting the grim lines and titanium angles of their faces.

Ayala and Andrews took up their posts by the doors at Janeway's indicative nod while General Benn approached the table.

"Ears!" Rimmaz thundered snidely the moment he got a good look at his waiting greeting party, completely unaffected by the mood of the conference room. "You're looking well! Guess being a Jehnz-yin charity case agrees with you, eh?"

Tuvok's expression darkened, and Vulcan non-emotionalism be damned, Chakotay decided upon following the general's taunting gaze and landing squarely on the tensing security chief.

"My name," the lieutenant-commander intoned, "as I have told you before, General, is Commander Tuvok."

"With listeners like those, your name is 'Ears'," Rimmaz dismissed snidely. His eyes were already focused upon Janeway, however, and he made a point of looking her over very thoroughly. "Ah, the goddess, herself. You'll forgive me if I don't bow down in worship?" he sneered.

"General," Janeway greeted him coolly, giving absolutely no hint of a riled response to his taunts. She indicated the seat closest to the standing Jehnz-yin. "If you'll take a seat, we can begin our discussion."

"Keep your seat," Rimmaz spat. "I told you before, I don't even see the point of this so-called _discussion_. But you're a woman, and I keep forgetting I have to make allowances for your failing intelligence."

She said nothing, seemed to be coolly waiting for him to finish.

"It's very simple," he continued. "_You're_ going to turn over those Oncaveat you have here, and _we're_ going to allow you to live. Provided you get the hell out of our space and don't piss me off in the meantime."

"We're not turning those Oncaveat over to you." Chakotay spoke before she had to. "There's no circumstance that could lead us to take that action, General."

Instead of exploding as expected, Benn seemed amused. "Ah, the silent commando actually _speaks_," Rimmaz jeered, sparing a glance at the man to the right of the table he continued to face. "And here I thought you only spoke when _she_ gave you permission."

Knowing the general had just dealt what would have been a deep insult to someone of his own race, Chakotay remained secure enough in his own position to remain entirely unfazed, even smiling sarcastically back at the general's sneering countenance. "No, I asked permission before you walked in," he retorted smoothly.

Rimmaz's irritation did flare then as he recognized the lack of effect his taunting was having on the three he'd most wanted to rile, and he spat, "Disgusting sacks of blood, that's all you Federations are. Why we're even considering letting you continue to exist is–"

"_Commander_ Chakotay is absolutely correct," Janeway interjected stonily. "We will never hand the Oncaveat aboard this vessel over to _you_. That point isn't even up for discussion. The point of this meeting, as I informed you several times already, is to hand over the Jehnz-yin girl to you. In order that she be protected from Gerros's wrath when he wakes."

General Benn shook his head, allowing her to redirect the conversation as he muttered, "He's already awake."

For the first time, Janeway, Chakotay and Tuvok were prompted to exchange a long look between them, Janeway and Chakotay in particular communicating a meaningful non-verbal message between them. Only to each other did they convey most of their surprise, because they hadn't heard the chancellor had been awoken until now. They had expected a communication from Ellizas, Rimmaz's son, before that. Or at the very least, shortly afterward.

That they hadn't received one was unnerving, and neither was entirely certain of whether or not they should believe the general at all.

"I'll _look_ at your girl," Rimmaz spat, drawing their attention to himself again. "Then I'll tell you if we'll take her or not. But those Oncaveat are coming with me. Make this easy on yourselves and don't make me take the whole ship."

"Unacceptable," Janeway maintained, her nostrils flaring this time in her unmitigated annoyance with the insufferable general. "We have an agreement with Ellizas Benn. From what I understand, he's your son–"

"My son is _dead_," Rimmaz roared. Showing the first true anger he'd displayed thus far and making Ayala and Andrews both subtly find their weapons at their holsters in preparation. "So is my daughter. And it's all thanks to you, _Janeway_."

The captain paled at those words, shock coursing openly through her. Chakotay's widening eyes once again found hers over the table, and both swallowed into the heavy silence that descended over the room at those claims. Was it possible? Had Ellizas and Nyra been…?

"I don't understand," Kathryn replied flatly, the moment she was able to turn her gaze back to the offensive general. "When we spoke earlier this morning, you said–"

"I said what I knew," Rimmaz growled. "Which was that the plan I agreed to was to escort you to our borders. For my son's sake, and my daughter's. I received the transmission from one of my sources on Ghanza Prime. They were killed early this morning. I only just received word."

Janeway swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," he snapped. "They were stupid. They underestimated Xi – something they both warned _me_ not to do." He shook his head in disgust. "It's their own fault. Well…it was Nyra's fault. And it's a waste, because she was mostly a bright girl, for a half-breed." He seemed to shake himself out of the strange sort of reverie that had overtaken him as he spoke about his daughter. "But so now you see, Janeway," he straightened up. "You _owe_ me. And I'll take those Oncaveat as payment."

"I don't understand how giving you the Oncaveat aboard Voyager –and make no mistake about this, General," she pointed at him in emphasis, "I'm _not_ going to hand them over to you – but I fail to see how doing so could possibly make up for the loss of two of your children."

Rimmaz grinned. "Well, I have to make more, now, don't I? And we're not exactly a pleasure cruiser. We don't just have women wandering all through the decks of our ship. We're warriors. Women have no place on a ship of war. They need too much space. Have too many _possessions _they always seem to need to lug around with them, and I don't toler–"

"Your point?" she scathingly cut into his ramblings.

He shrugged, unconcerned. "Oncaveat woman are another matter altogether. You can keep quite a few of them chained effectively in very small spaces, if you space the chains right…"

He was absolutely disgusting. Again, Janeway opted for ignoring him, ignoring most of what was spewing from his mouth. Something she could see plainly the other occupants of the room were having trouble doing, if the clenched jaws and the subtle sounds of grinding teeth next to her were any indication. But she'd taken almost as bad from Cullah for the better part of two years, and much worse from Xi several months ago. She wasn't intimidated, nor was she inclined to give the bastard general the satisfaction of allowing herself to be irritated by his comments – more irritated, anyway. She simply shook her head at him with mostly contained disgust. "_That's_ certainly not going to happen. There's no chance you're getting those Oncaveat, so devise another method of bolstering the number of your offspring, General."

Benn seemed taken aback. For the briefest of moments, she entertained the hopeful notion that she had somehow gotten through to him, but then he clasped his gnarled hand to his breast in dramatic fashion, and she understood he was toying with her before he even spoke. "_Oh_," he mocked. "Yes. My apologies, _Captain_. I didn't mean to be _rude_! Were you offering yourself for the role, then?" He laughed uproariously at the look of venom being shot to him from all angles now and allowed his eyes to wander casually over every visible part of her. "I'll admit. It could be fun to have my offspring carried by a goddess…"

The conference room doors opened, revealing Bimmah, the Jehnz-yin girl, and sparing Janeway – and everyone else in the room who was burning to – the trouble of having to disavow him of the false notion that the two of them would be engaging in any activity of the kind. In any reality.

Bimmah visibly trembled between her escort, sniffling softly as she was beckoned into the room by the woman captain she hadn't seen since the morning she had taken those sedatives and knocked herself out in order to avoid the terrifying prospect of having her molecules scrambled and reassembled. She looked to the command team as if she was regretting not having saved those sedatives for the current occasion as the towering, very imposing first general approached her immediately. And while anyone who'd come into contact with Bimmah since Ellizas had forced her to join Janeway and Chakotay was used to her display of barely muted histrionics, she was clearly even more terrified than she generally walked around being at the sight of the predatory general approaching her.

Rimmaz made a grand show of looking her over. He stalked around her several times, taking a thorough appraisal, and finally stopped in front of her again. He reached out a hand to snatch her trembling chin in his claws, yanking her head up to stare into her wide, terrified eyes, his smile forming slowly as he elicited a startled cry from the girl with his sudden and aggressive movement. By the time he'd finished scrutinizing her, he was grinning toothily. He turned to the three at the head of the long, as-yet-unused conference table. "Oh, I'll take her, all right." His attention returned to the frightened girl in his clutches. "You look used to hard work, girl, and that's good. There's no free passage on _my_ ship. And we don't have the space to give you your own room," he drawled. "But I'm sure we'll find space for you with one of us. Maybe even with me, eh?"

Kathryn's stomach churned in disgust throughout the general's open appraisal. Especially as Bimmah turned beseeching wet eyes to the Federation officers standing at the head of the table, as if searching for help even as she shrunk back under the weight of Rimmaz's bulky arm slinking around her. And the captain was struck with the irony of the situation in the few seconds it took her to come to a decision. It had finally happened. The Jehnz-yin girl had found something to be terrified enough of to make her acknowledge the complete lack of threat she, Chakotay and the other Voyagers actually presented to her.

_Now_ she wanted their help, all of the sudden.

Unfortunately, the captain couldn't blame her this time.

"Gentlemen," Janeway swallowed painfully past the disgusted dryness in her throat as she spoke to the two officers who'd just admitted Bimmah into the room and had hung back at the doors, awaiting further orders, "please escort her back to her room for the time being."

"No need," Rimmaz grunted, tightening his muscled arm around the girl. "She can come directly back with me. As soon as you make arrangements to send over those Oncaveat," he added pointedly.

The security team looked to their captain for clarification, hesitating, but she nodded them forward as if Rimmaz hadn't spoken. "Take her back to her room to gather her things," she ordered clearly. "I'll call for her when we're ready."

Through her terror, Bimmah looked forlorn, forsaken – and confused. She tried to stammer, "But…I didn't…bring anything with m–"

"Yes, you did," Kathryn broke over her crisply, nodding to the officers to physically take control of the girl when Rimmaz still stubbornly refused to unhand her. He reluctantly allowed his arm to be shifted off of her, however, and made no move to physically stop them, and Janeway was satisfied when the girl and her escort reached the doors. "Commander." She'd sensed Chakotay and Tuvok's eyes on her from the moment she'd given her unexpected order and knew they were both dying to speak up, but that Tuvok would keep quiet until after the meeting to voice his opinion. Chakotay would, too, but she preferred him to be on board with this decision before it was irreversible. "I'd like a word with you in my ready room, please." His brows shot up briefly, the only indication of his surprise at her second request, and then he nodded, beginning to step away from the table along with her. "Excuse us, General," she cut over her shoulder what was almost scathingly in parting.

The instant the doors closed and he could turn and face her, got a good glimpse at the look on her face, he knew what was coming. As if he hadn't already suspected before…

She shook her head, her expression closed, gesturing with her arm towards the ready room. The bridge officers all glanced up at the sound of the doors opening and did a bit of a double take at the sight of them, and seeing their stares, Chakotay simply nodded in agreement, ducked his head and followed her across the conspicuously-quiet bridge in silence.

The minute the second pair of doors sealed behind him, he began, "Kathryn, I know what you're thinking–"

"You might not," she began wheedling, defending her position immediately as she made her way to the desk.

He wasn't having it. "I _do _know, and it's insane. We can't keep her!"

She paused before turning to face him, absently opting for leaning back against it the ledge of her desk, where she studied him briefly, sizing him up…and then flashed him her most endearing smile. "Hold on. I think I might have just what we need here." Keeping her eyes fixed to his face, she leaned backward until she was precariously, impressively balanced on just one hip, allowing her to reach into the small top drawer of the desk and to fumble around in it for a moment before, with a triumphant light in her eyes, she came back to an upright position with a small napkin in her hand. Carefully, she unwrapped it in her lap, while he stared in open fascination by now, to reveal…

"Are you sure I can't interest you in a cookie before we continue this stimulating conversation?" she held out her hand like a child holding up a drawing for her parent to praise, smiling ingenuously, but his immediate response was only a disbelieving huff.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"Now would I kid a face like yours?" she deadpanned.

"You're not funny, Kathryn."

"I'm at least a little funny," she corrected him immediately, grinning incorrigibly at the look on his face. At the low growl beginning to form audibly in his throat, she prudently hid her answering laugh well in a feigned cough as she bit into one, but her grin was still impossible to contain – until the flavor of the thing actually penetrated her senses, and then she grimaced in what was damned near physical pain.

"Where'd you even _get_ those?" he demanded indignantly, hands going to his hips the way they did whenever he was preparing himself for a long standoff.

"Neelix," she admitted, gasping and choking in earnest as she attempted to swallow the space-dust-dry confection. "I asked him…to make them...this morning." She promptly gave up and flipped the cookies onto the table in favor of using the napkin to delicately spit out the offending confection and wrap it up, where it could no longer offend any of the five senses it had previously been assaulting. "But I doubt they're going to do anything to improve _anyone's_ mood, so forget I asked. Ugh." She shook her head, coughed again, wishing to hell she had rations to spare on coffee – _anything_ – to wash away the bitter, tart taste of what Neelix had actually had the gall to call "delectable". "God, they're disgusting. I'd swear he used Jehnz-yin rations to make them."

He nodded. "Entirely possible. Frighteningly unsurprising. And it serves you right," he smirked in automatic retort, plainly enjoying the poetic justice of having avoided the ordeal entirely even as he was folding his arms at the penetration of her admission, and he continued on to the real point at hand. "_This morning_," he repeated accusingly. "So you knew. You knew you weren't going to be able to give her over to him, didn't you? Before Rimmaz came today, you knew…"

She shook her head. "To be fair, I hadn't entirely decided until he'd done his little appraisal act just a few minutes ago." At the disbelieving look he was pinning her with, she sighed, having the good grace to at least appear chagrined and crossing her own arms in front of her in defeat "All right, I admit it. I realized I probably couldn't this morning, after that last transmission from him. But could _you_ send her over to him, in good conscience? Honestly, Chakotay? If it were up to you, would you really be able to…?"

"She tried to kill me," he reminded pointedly. Stubbornly not giving a millimeter of ground. Not yet.

She only continued to stare challengingly.

"And she ended up killing Shasta, instead," he added, bolstering his argument.

"Under direct orders from Gerros. Orders she probably would have been killed for disobeying," Kathryn corrected, not letting up on her challenging gaze.

And he had to admit, now that she was forcing him to really ponder the issue, he probably couldn't. His own stomach had been doing quite a bit of churning back in that room, and that wasn't even mentioning the almost spasmodic way his fingers had been twitching, desperate to clench into tight fists to be able to wipe that smirk off Rimmaz's snide, disgusting face. "No," he admitted aloud, sighed in a smaller, resigned voice as his posture sagged and his arms came slowly away from his chest. "I probably couldn't. She's obviously terrified of him, and not without good reason," he added, more to himself than to her.

"Not to mention the fact that she's really not much more than a child…"

"He's going to be angry," Chakotay warned quietly. "Now that he's seen her and decided he wanted her, he's not going to take your refusal to hand her over after making him come here in the first place."

"Something I already regret, believe me, but as for his anger…do we care?" she countered calmly. "He's too arrogant to have kept more than two of his ships nearby while he's 'escorted' us. In less than two days, we reach their borders, and even their three ships combined don't pose enough of a threat to make me second-guess throwing him off this ship for one minute. We can handle the fall-out of his anger. We'll fight our way to the border from here, and to be honest, I've always expected we'd have to, anyway. Truce or no truce, he was going to be impossible to stomach indefinitely."

He nodded. They'd discussed that, at length already, and both had been surprised that they'd gone this long without open hostilities breaking out between Voyager and the military ships as it was. He swallowed. "What do we do about Gerros?"

She shook her head, her expression both grim and thoughtful. "I'm not sure yet. I imagine there'll be a long-range message transmitting for me shortly. I'm sure he'll want to speak to me, even if he doesn't have a clue where I am by now. I'm not even tempted to consider listening to it, though."

He was glad. Whatever the Jehnz-yin chancellor could want to say to Kathryn was probably nothing either one of them wanted, or needed, to hear. "He'll probably send his guard after us, too."

That had occurred to her, and she wasn't long in replying, "If Rimmaz is angry enough – and stupid enough – to tell him where we are, yes. Probably."

"And they'll have to obey his orders if knows they know where we are. They'll have to come after us then. Even if they'd have been inclined to keep quiet after Nyra and Ellizas were killed. The Guard could pose a real threat. There're enough of their ships, and they're of superior design."

"Yes," she acknowledged. "But we have a good head start on them. And if they can't catch us, then it won't matter much, will it?"

He stepped back as she stood, preparing to return to the conference room, their decision reached. "I guess not."

"Good. I'm glad we're in agreement."

"You'd have done what you wanted anyway," he called her out on it as the doors parted for her, and he waited for her pass through them before following. "Regardless of whether or not I agreed with you."

"Probably," she admitted, as they crossed the bridge again. She paused outside of the doors to the conference room just long enough to flash him a devious, sparkling grin. "But it's going to be so much more fun to throw him off the ship together, now isn't it?"

He had to admit it was going to be as they stepped back into the room to square off with one soon-to-be-furious Jehnz-yin general.


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer****: **Please see chapter one.

**Notes**: Chesh, bless you for your thorough look-through of this chapter.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

* * *

"That's it." He sat back from the relay in exhaustion, tucking the warm hypo-spanner he'd been utilizing under his thumb and groaning softly at the loud protestations of muscles that had been assuming an unnatural, cramped position for far too long. He observed the relay, which was blinking soft blue in approval of their repairs, and finally pronounced, "We're done."

B'Elanna swiped the back of a singed sleeve across her damp brow, her blank expression of general exhaustion mirroring that of the man next to her. "That we are," she agreed tiredly, leaning forward to replace the protective paneling they'd repaired earlier. "For tonight, anyway. Assuming those Jehnz-yin ships don't come back for another pass in the meantime," she added darkly.

Considering the generally battered state of the ship, the fierce battle that had ensued after the captain had reportedly kicked Rimmaz off the ship had been the last thing they'd needed, but not entirely unexpected, either. They'd all been waiting for the other shoe to drop, from the moment they'd been informed of the tentative alliance with the war-loving Jehnz-yi.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think they'll be back this time. We took out most of their propulsion systems and damaged the general's ship pretty badly. It'll take weeks for them to repair – we're out of the woods, for now."

"Good. Maybe we can actually finish repairs…and keep them finished…for longer than a week this time."

He grunted in passive agreement as she sat back on her heels next to him.

"What time is it?" she ventured, after they stared at their handiwork several moments longer than was strictly necessary.

He roused himself from his momentary stupor for long enough to check the chronometer and winced. "02:13."

She nodded, unsurprised, turning in the cramped Jeffries tube to face him. "All right. Then that _definitely _does it for tonight. Thanks for your help, by the way."

"No problem."

"We'll handle the rest of it in the morning." She scoffed tiredly. "Well…later on in the morning."

"Uh…I'm not sure I'll be available later on this morning. The captain might want me back up on the bridge," Kim corrected apologetically.

Her snort of laughter, however flat with her physical and mental exhaustion, was nonetheless surprising this time, and he paused in the act of gathering up the tools to return to their storage locker long enough to give her the eye. "What?" he demanded. "What's funny about that? I'm actually a bridge officer, in case you'd forgotten."

"Oh, _I_ didn't forget it." She'd started crawling forward, well past ready to be out of the cramped confines of the tube. "We thought maybe _you_ had, though."

"Ex_cuse_ me?" He stuffed the tools into the kit, snapping the lid shut and making to follow her with audible annoyance. "What's _that_ supposed to mean? And who's 'we'?"

She didn't bother turning back in acknowledgement of his indignation, continuing her crawl to the end of the next junction. "We. Me. Tom. Neelix. Half the ship…" she trailed off, not particularly enlighteningly.

"Look," he grumbled, more than irately, "it's really a little late in the evening for this kind of–"

"Morning," she corrected him, unconcerned.

"Whatever," he gritted back. "You know what I meant." He watched as she disappeared around the junction of the tiny corridor ahead, her words playing over in his head, taunting him, and called after her, "So what did you mean, I'd forgotten I was a bridge officer??"

When no response came, he huffed an annoyed breath out of exasperated lips and, adjusting the slipping toolkit in his sweaty grasp, hastened to catch up with her…

She shocked him by appearing, seated just past the bend, having waited for him to turn the corner behind her and pouncing the instant he did.

"What do you _think_ it means?" she demanded, the tiredness giving way to sheer annoyance. "It's no secret that you're the one who volunteered to be down here all day. Probably so you could keep avoiding the captain."

He gritted his teeth, having had the feeling that this was somehow going to be the topic of discussion. Tom had ripped into him earlier that morning for avoiding breakfast, again, and Kim responded about as well to B'Elanna's sticking her nose where it didn't belong as he had to Paris earlier. "I don't see how that's anyone's business but mine," he snapped, moving to push past her.

She hefted a fistful of his gaping uniform as he tried to bypass her, effortlessly effecting a bone-jarring hauling of his body back to her side and shoving him back against the rounded Jeffries tube wall. She leaned into him, pinning him before he could break free. "It becomes our business when you make it obvious enough that everyone's talking about it." He glowered back at her. She only blew a stray tendril of hair out of her eyes, which were blazing with anger of her own, and continued without the slightest regard for his preferences. "What the hell's wrong with you, Starfleet? What'd she do to you so bad that you can't let go of it?"

"It's complicated," he groused, folding his arms stubbornly in front of him like a shield. "You wouldn't understand even if I tried to explain it to you – which I'm not, because it's none of your business."

Again, she scoffed, in something much less than genuine amusement. "What's not to understand? You're pissed off at her. That much, anyone can see." She shook her head in disgust, dropping the hand that had still been clutching a fistful of his uniform. "Look…I get it. God knows I've been angry at her once or twice myself." He snorted, exaggerated sarcasm. She ignored him completely. "But whatever it is, she's been through enough these past few months without you acting like an ass on top of it all, don't you think?"

"Like I said," he grated, in a manner indicating actual physical pain in restraining his resentment, "you wouldn't understand."

"Fine," she snapped, at the end of her own notoriously non-abundant supply of patience. "You don't want to talk to me about it, okay. Then talk to _her_ about it. Work it out on the holodeck or something. I don't care how, do what you have to do, Harry, but…bury this. Soon."

She turned to go, having said her piece and being satisfied with that, but Kim was less than okay with her having the last word in this conversation he hadn't even wanted to participate in in the first place, and he couldn't resist a sardonic, "Or what? You'll rip my arm off and feed it to me?"

B'Elanna stiffened, freezing in her position of crawling away. When she finally turned her head back enough to look at him, the grim smile on her face was less than confidence-inspiring as she murmured, "Oh, no. I'll do worse than that."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm terrified."

"And you probably _should _be. But not of me. Because if you don't bury this thing between you and the captain…I'm not going to have to touch you. I'm just going to stop protecting you, and then I'm going to let Chakotay have you. He's less than thrilled with your attitude lately, too, you know. I've been the one keeping him off your back, actually – until now. Even I have my limits, and you're pushing this too far."

She keyed the code to open the hatch just in front of her, deftly hefting herself out of the Jeffries tube and leaving him sitting there alone, the doors sealing behind her well before he was capable of thinking up a response.

* * *

"Captain!"

She physically jumped at the sudden address, spinning on her heel in shock. "Neelix," she choked out as his whiskered countenance suddenly filled her frame of vision. Good God, he'd just given her a heart attack. He'd just popped out of the kitchen she'd visually scanned and determined to be empty seconds beforehand, nearly killing her and definitely drawing the attention of the only other occupant of the dimmed room. She was flooded with disappointment as the dark head snapped up to obviously lock eyes on her, but then the Talaxian seemed to be deliberately stepping in front of her, almost nervously.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Captain," he continued in a more hushed voice, obviously noting the several shades of pale she'd gone after sighting him. "I didn't mean to startle you."

_God help me then if you ever mean to, _she thought darkly, plastering a smile across her face. "It's all right, Neelix. I just…didn't see you back there," she assured him dryly.

"Yes, well…I'm sorry." He shifted more directly into her path, blocking more of her target from sight – to her annoyance. "Uh…did you come for more cookies?" he asked worriedly. "I'm afraid I don't have any more, but I could probably make another small batch if you really–"

"No!" she answered immediately, her eyes tightening even around the wide smile she forced to stay in place, and then she had to make herself soften her tone at his shocked expression. "No, that won't be necessary. That is…they were wonderful, thank you, but…they're…they're very…" her mind whirled to come up with an appropriate excuse, but landed only on, "filling."

She was relieved – and a little bit wary – to note that her explanation, somehow, made his mouth twitch with…was that…_pride_?

"Probably the rations I put into them," he whispered, as if it was a state secret he didn't want anyone overhearing. "Since you were giving up your lunch to try my recipe, I thought I should make sure they were somewhat substantial."

"Well…I…" She had almost no idea what to say to that. And the smile was becoming painful. She cleared her throat delicately. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Captain. You know that."

And that, really, was half of what frightened her so much.

He nodded magnanimously, apparently under no urgency to move on from the topic.

"What…" Her eyes tracked her target's movements as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze unmistakably landing on the single functioning door she was now blocking, but she forced her attention back to the conversation she was currently engaged in. "What are you doing up at this hour? It's past 03:00." She at least managed to hide her utter annoyance at his presence well enough, she thought with some satisfaction. Because it was an effort, at this time of night, indeed.

"Is it?" He sounded surprised. "I had no idea." His hand scratched at his gaudy shirt over his chest as he confessed, "I…couldn't really seem to sleep."

Her eyes returned sharply to his at that. Because she thought she could hazard a few damned good guesses why he'd be having trouble sleeping, now that she thought about it, and even that was more important to her than the conversation she needed, and had expected, to be having at this moment. "Why not?" She swallowed as the golden eyes darted to the floor rather than continuing to meet her scrutinizing gaze. "Nightmares?" she pressed shrewdly.

He fidgeted with his whiskers. "Probably about on par with yours," he returned guiltily – astutely, at that.

And her entire affect visibly softened from the pretense of tolerance she'd been effecting to one of genuine sympathy as she nodded a soft admittance of his guess. "Probably."

"Well," his smile was as much forced as hers, but he was clearly making an effort to steer the conversation away from such serious subject matter, "so it's a good thing you came down. Now we can entertain each other, right? Oh…can I get you some coffee? But I have to warn you…at this time of night, there's only decaf, with ration restrictions being what they are…"

"No, I don't think so. Not now." She shook her head for emphasis, entirely unwilling to descend to Neelix's special blend when there wasn't even caffeine in it to compensate for the taste…and texture…of that horrible brew. "Thank you. I just came to pass the time somewhere quiet…that wasn't my quarters or a Jeffries tube."

"Ah." He nodded sagely. "I understand. Repairs still coming along?"

"We're getting there." Damn, but he could keep up a dying conversation like nobody's business. Her eyes again found the darker ones across the room. Her target hadn't yet designed a method of getting past her unnoticed, and, torn between the two options, she turned her attention to the Talaxian once more. Gauging, once and for all, the level of his personal need for company right at this moment. "Neelix," she interrupted some sort of explanation about the food stores she hadn't asked for, her hand coming up to his shoulder. "Would you be all right if I asked you to give Harry and I a moment?"

He looked decidedly uncomfortable for a long pause, and just as she decided she was concerned enough to change her mind and let the neatly-pinned Ensign Kim pass out of her hold in favor of attending to Neelix, the Talaxian finally sighed, admitting through uncomfortably gritted teeth, "I…if you really…_want_ me to, Captain, of course I will. I just…" he hesitated, "I'm not…_entirely_ certain…that's a good idea right now." And his amber gaze darted nervously over to the solitary figure in question before he turned sheepishly back to her.

Her eyes narrowed. So he knew. He'd known from the beginning why she'd really come down here. That's what he was doing right now, standing in her path. He was actively trying to keep her from coming into contact with Harry, not out of personal need for distraction from the demons he'd been wrestling since his recovery from the Jehnz-yin, but out of concern. But for which one of them, she couldn't tell…she hazarded a swift guess. And smiled. "I promise to go easy on him," she assured wryly.

It did little to lighten the morale officer's apprehension, however. To her shock. "Actually, it might not be him I'm worried about this time," Neelix muttered, somewhat sheepish at the look she pinned him with then. He swallowed. Stepped back. "Er…go right ahead. I was just going to check in on our new Jehnz-yin vegetable seedlings in the hydroponics bay anyway," he lied, bowing back and out of her path, and effectively excusing himself from the room.

She let him go without comment, her focus already on her original, intended target when she'd headed into to mess hall at 03:23 in the morning. And it was a damned good thing the second exit to the mess hall hadn't been fixed yet, because he had essentially been forced to sit there this whole time, waiting for her to leave, if he was that lucky. Which he clearly saw now, as she headed directly for him, that he was not.

Like a hawk descending on its prey, she silently slid into the seat directly across from him. Without moving a muscle, they squared off, both sizing each other up.

She was almost surprised by the man she saw sitting across from her. She'd known for awhile now that Harry was no longer the green ensign that had first reported to her ready room, but she'd missed his transformation into the cold, angry opponent he appeared to be now. Could he really have changed that much in just under ninety days?

He must have. Prior to encountering the Jehnz-yi, he had still smiled in her direction whenever she entered a room, he had still greeted her with enthusiasm despite the hour, and he had still sought her approval and recognition above all else. But all of that had changed, and what he saw when he looked across the table at her now, she could only wonder.

"Since you haven't asked what I'm doing here at this late hour," she began, trying not to clip her words, "I can only assume that you've been expecting me."

"I guess I have," he offered tightly.

He hadn't been, actually. If he'd expected her anywhere, it would have been to his quarters – which was why he wasn't there. But the instant he'd seen her too-familiar silhouette at the one functional entrance, and exit, to the mess hall, he'd realized that he'd reached the end of the line of being able to avoid her.

And the question remained of how this was going to play out between them, now that it finally came to confrontation. He opted for heading her off at the pass, if possible.

"I wasn't aware that we had anything to discuss."

Her raised eyebrow let him know she wasn't going to let him off that easy, even if some naïve part of him had ever deluded him into thinking she might. "Oh, I'd say we seem to have plenty to discuss. If your recent behavior is any indication."

The gall of _that_ response cut him deep. "Sorry? _My_ recent…?" He shook his head, cutting himself off as years of indoctrination strained to have him revert to a more appropriately expressed retort. "I wasn't aware that my behavior was in any way lacking in professionalism, Captain. I've been doing my duty, nothing more, nothing less."

"You've been avoiding me. And it's obvious enough that you're no fan of mine recently by your silence on the few occasions you _haven't_ managed to avoid me. And, to be clear, you're entitled to your opinion, so long as you keep it hidden from the rest of the crew, but from the sounds of the recent gossip lately, you haven't. And that means we have something we need to address between us before we can move on. So," she spread her hands with a quick sweep of her eyes over their surroundings, "here we are."

"Here we are," he echoed grimly. He had to concede the point of the rest of the crew knowing, unfortunately. He'd been taking flak for it all week, and while he hadn't meant for his feelings to be known to the general crew, it apparently had been more obvious than he'd thought it would be. And that had driven them here, to this conversation, as she'd pointed out.

"Would you like to start?" she offered…either charitably or uncharitably, depending on how one looked at it.

Because, no, he wouldn't. He would prefer it if _no one_ started it, and he searched his mind for the best way to end this before it got too involved. He sat up perfectly straight in his seat, his eyes fixing dead ahead of him. "I apologize if my actions have caused any…troublesome rumors…among the crew. I'll make sure my behavior is past all speculation from this point on."

She let out a harsh breath of humorless mirth, dismissing his show of protocol with flaring annoyance with a single sweep of her hand. "Spare me the 'Ensign Perfect' routine. I think we decided some time ago that you're not him anymore, and it's not what either of us wants you to be. What the crew thinks has to be addressed, yes, but that isn't what I'm really concerned with here – and you know it."

His eyes burned into her, but he kept his tone tight. "Then what are you concerned with, ma'am? Because I think it's a little late for–"

"There's a reason for your resentment," she cut impatiently over him, ahead of his feeble excuses, "and I'd like to hear you tell me, in your own words, what it is. It's the only way we're going to move past this."

If he thought this conversation could go any way between them but bad, he'd have taken his complaints with recent events straight to her the minute she got out of sickbay. He didn't think he was one to hide from reality. But he also wasn't one to do something that could only make a bad situation worse just to make himself feel better. He worked his jaw, reflecting over what she'd asked, and decided she didn't have a clue what she was really getting into here. "With all due respect, ma'am…I don't think this is anywhere you want to go with me right now."

Her eyes flashed at his tone, but she ignored it – for the moment. "Why?" she pressed. "Because you think you have something to say that I won't want to hear? I can assure you, I've been hearing things I haven't wanted to for a good portion of my life by now. I can handle it." She watched his head begin to shake midway through her speech, noted that she hadn't produced even a flicker of willing reception to her presence, and changed tactics immediately. "Or are you afraid that it's _you_ who won't like what you hear?"

"What?" That had gotten him – gotten him angry, that was. It had gotten him angry as hell, actually, but he contained most of the heat in his reply by habit if nothing else, "Excuse me..._Captain_? Why would _I_ have anything to be worried about in this conversation?"

"Because it's one thing to hold private resentments in your own head, and quite another to voice them and hear how hollow and foolish they sound spoken aloud."

"Hollow? Foolish?" he echoed, his ire rising with each additional word that felt like, in his present state of mind, an insult added to injury. His teeth ground together, audible in the silence. She really wanted to do this, it seemed. Fine. Then he'd oblige her; he could only hold himself back for so long, after all. "Permission to speak freely?"

She eyed him intensely, her expression unwavering, and decided upon, "For the moment. I'll let you know when you've gone too far."

"Then let me _respectfully_ submit," he clipped out, not having missed the subtle dig she'd worked into her "permission", "that I have good reason to feel the way I do. And if you didn't think so, too, you wouldn't be here, asking for my side of it in the first place."

That gave her pause. She hadn't expected that little bit of logic on his part, and her head tilted slightly as she absorbed his preliminary blow. "I wouldn't?" she prompted cautiously, at the very least having had her curiosity piqued by his assertion.

"No," he reiterated with satisfied certainty, "you wouldn't. I'd already be in the brig, or you'd at least have hauled me into the ready room for a dressing down by now."

She blinked. Damn the boy – _man_ – but he had a point. And she had to admit it. "All right," she grated, the admission somewhat unpalatable to her, who wasn't used to having to concede much of anything, "you've got me there. I would have."

"Good. Then since we can both agree that I have good reason to be angry with you, you can understand why I don't exactly think this is a good idea…"

"And you can understand why I can't let things go on the way they currently are," she interrupted once again. "And yes – while we're on the subject – I know you've been through a lot these past few months. Probably more so than most others on this ship, and some of it was undeniably due to certain command decisions I felt I had to ma–"

"C_ommand_ _decisions_?" His incredulous, scathing explosion warned her a split-second before he lost control completely, "You _left_ him there!" Harry roared, shaking the table between them as his hands slammed down with punctuating force upon it. "You came for me, who they'd hardly touched, while they were _burning his eye out_! What the hell kind of _command decision_ was that??"

This time, when she blinked into the silence that descended around them like a thick cloak, it was in something much more like shock. At his intensity, the level of it. It was more than she'd expected, far more, and even on par with the level of recrimination she secretly leveled at herself for the exact same decision. And though no officer under her command really could claim the right to speak to her like that under any circumstances, free speech or not, she forced herself to swallow it whole in the interest of chasing whatever dregs of reconciliation might remain to be had between the two of them now.

Still, he had to be made to see the other side. Allowing him to question her decisions, without defending the ultimate gain of those decisions, was out of the question.

"It was the correct procedure for the situation at hand," she gritted authoritatively. "You were being less closely guarded. You were in the less secure location. Your recovery was certain, and Neelix's wasn't. In addition, if I hadn't gotten you back to the ship first, there was no guarantee he'd have made it off that moon at all."

His head was shaking back and forth, the color in his face barely lessened. "There's _never _a guarantee," he repeated words she'd spoken to him on occasion, deftly, at that, "but there _is_ a good chance that if you'd gone for him first, he wouldn't still be up at 03:30 in the morning right now!"

"Like you are?" she shot at him pointedly.

"Like _you_ are," he shot right back.

When she didn't say anything, didn't look surprised at his addition, some of the burning anger had to drain out, had to leave him. Because not only was it impossible to maintain that kind of intensity for very long, but his mind, as it always did whenever he had to look at her now, would not stop playing certain images over and over again. Images he shouldn't have had to see, images no one should ever have had to see, especially not of his captain. Images her _command decisions_ had caused him to have to monitor. And images he doubted would ever completely leave his consciousness now.

The added lines around her eyes and mouth, the lack of fire in her eyes, all of it was subtle. But he saw it, and worse, he'd seen much of the insidious actions that had caused those subtle manifestations to appear…

"You let them," he whispered hoarsely. Accusingly. "You just…you _let_ them."

He had her confused this time, but she hadn't lost her defensive posture through it all. "I beg your pardon?" she prompted – with a hint of warning.

He didn't seem affected by it. "You let them…" he repeated, and it was only then that she could clearly see the hurt in his eyes. Not anger, but genuine hurt. "You walked onto that base. Through the front door. Knowing you weren't going to be able to get yourself back out. You let them…" he trailed off. Unwilling, even in his anger, to speak certain things aloud.

But he straightened. He forced himself to straighten, and to plunge on with this now that she had started it. Because there were things she needed to account for before he could let go of any of it. "When Commander Chakotay went after you, I piloted the shuttle."

"I know," she allowed with a wary nod. Unsure of where he could possibly be going now and unsure of whether or not she would want him to go wherever that might be.

"And do you also know that I had to monitor the general's broadcasts while he was down there?" Harry added sharply.

Oh, hell. Contrary to what his had done moments ago, Kathryn's face drained of any color her own justified anger had previously produced at this revelation. She'd known the doctor had had to see parts, but that Harry would have had _never _occurred to her.

"No," she croaked out. "I…didn't know that. Chakotay never mentioned it." But they were going to have words when she was through here, she decided through her shocked disbelief. Why in the hell _wouldn't_ he have mentioned that…?? He knew the problems she and Harry were having, and surely he'd have realized the relevance of that little–

"The commander didn't ask me to," Harry broke into her thoughts, explaining the discrepancy without realizing. It did little to relax her, however, but he was fairly beyond noticing as he continued, "In fact, we were all specifically ordered _not_ to look at them. But he'd been monitoring the broadcast himself because he needed to be sure what was happening, that you were still there until we got there, and when he beamed down, I realized I had to watch for the same reason. Communications weren't reliable by the time he'd gotten closer to the dampening field. So I had to watch to know when he'd gotten to you and when I'd be able to beam you both out. I had to _watch _it, Captain. I had to watch you, the one person I count on to be invincible, get ripped to pieces. Abused by those…" his face twisted in contempt at the thought of the general and his minions, "creatures. And I couldn't _do_ anything. I couldn't do a single damn thing to help you." His face twisted in pure torment this time as those images washed over him again, and he whispered in a tortured voice, "Do you have any idea what that was like to have to watch? _Any_ idea?"

Her throat was closing up with emotion, and she hated it.

It made a great deal more sense to her now. Even more than it had already made, really. Because she _did_ know – didn't she?

"Yes," she managed, as he seemed to be expecting an answer from her at last. She furiously blinked back traitorous tears for the pain she now understood so much better than she'd hoped to have to. "I do know, actually."

His head dipped in disbelief. "You do?" he sounded unsure. Entirely unconvinced.

"Yes." She nodded slowly as she met his tortured eyes, images of her own playing through her consciousness in that moment. "I do."

It was at some point during her struggle to keep older, swiftly-rising memories at bay that Janeway became aware in the back of her mind how exhausted she suddenly was. And as she studied him, intently, she changed her mind. When she'd walked in here, she'd been focused on making him realize certain things. On forcing him to look inward for the real subject of his anger. And that would have to be done, still. At some point. She hadn't changed her mind about that, and she didn't think she'd really been wrong in that regard. But the situation went even deeper than she'd expected, as he'd just revealed.

What this situation required, she began to realize fully, was _time_. He needed more time. To process things. To really process them. And he needed space to be able to do so. If this was the Alpha Quadrant, he'd have had both in the leave of absence all three of them would have taken, but out here...

It wasn't an option. They were just going to have to make the best of what _was _available to them: not much, by most standards.

"I do understand, Harry," she reiterated wearily. "I've been in a similar situation. And I'll tell you about it, if you ever want to hear it someday. But…I don't think today is that day." She sighed, sitting back in her chair. Letting go of the defensive posture she'd been maintaining and allowing herself to sag briefly. Allowing herself to breathe, and allowing him to do the same. Finally, her eyes found his again. "I had good reason for doing what I did on that moon. My decisions were made based upon information you didn't have at the time. But yes, I'll admit to you that the situation could have been handled better, in some instances. I also freely admit that you have good reason to be angry. With me, and with the universe in general. And I won't expect you to act otherwise on a personal level, or in a personal setting, until you're ready to."

She paused, giving him a moment to digest all that she was saying. What she was admitting, and what she was allowing of him. Once she felt he had, and she could detect the softening of his own battle-ready defenses, she leveled her final blow. "I admit that the decisions I've made have had very real consequences for at least two other members of my crew…you being one of them. And, in light of that fact, I should tell you before we go any further that I'm entering your name for several counseling sessions with Commander Chakotay as soon as I leave here."

Surprised, and not pleasantly, his skin once more flushed a noticeable shade of red, even in the darkened room, and he tensed up again. "You're going to…what?" he spluttered. "_Why_?"

"Because you have been through an ordeal that has had lasting psychological effects, and because you should have taken _yourself_ there the moment Commander Chakotay returned to active duty." The steel had come back into her gaze, her posture, and even her tone, causing him to straighten without even noticing. "Since you haven't, I'm sending you there."

He shook his head in the negative. "Captain–"

"That's not a suggestion," she clipped over him with curt finality.

He sighed. "I don't think you understand – my going isn't what I'm arguing. I just…no offense, Captain, but I think…you might want to reconsider your choice of counselors."

She almost laughed then, recognizing the ensign's apprehension and the reason behind it. Apparently, Harry hadn't been the only one with a little difficulty keeping his personal feelings a complete secret. Chakotay had obviously let a glare or two of his own slip that had warned Harry of the commander's…dissatisfaction…with his behavior. She'd actually been one of the people subtly keeping Chakotay at bay for days before that morning's final explanation had calmed him, but of course Harry would have no idea of that intervention having occurred...nor would he have any way of knowing that Chakotay understood Harry's point of view now that she had deigned fit to enlighten him. However, she saw no real reason to explain it all to Harry in detail now, either.

"You wanted the other ship's counselor then?" she inquired sardonically. When he only stared back at her, she shook her head. "The commander is a capable officer, Harry. One of the finest I've ever known. I assure you, he'll have no trouble setting aside his personal feelings in any regard. And I think you may be mistaken in thinking he has any negative feelings to set aside in the first place." She ignored his look of skepticism. "But you're going to see him in any case," she confirmed, "and he'd better be able to tell me afterward that you've been cooperative and open. Is that understood?"

He nodded, looking shell-shocked, and she took full advantage of having the upper hand again to clip out a crisp, satisfied, "Good. In less than four hours, the senior staff is meeting at that table for breakfast," she indicated the table to the left with a jerk of her head, "and you're going to be there. You're going to smile – genuinely – and you're going to actively engage me in conversation. That should do it as far as the general crew is concerned, and I won't ask you to come to any social gatherings other than that one. Provided you manage to act like I don't actually have the phage on the bridge," she added curtly. He had the good grace to flush again, in embarrassment this time, and it actually warmed her. Because it was much more the Harry that she knew. "Then you're going to report to Commander Chakotay's office at 09:00 to begin counseling. As for those sessions, it'll be up to the two of you – but mostly him – to determine how many more you need in future."

"Yes, ma'am." He accepted her orders with a resolute (if deflated) nod. "And…after breakfast…and Commander Chakotay?" he asked, as she got to her feet and turned to leave.

She halted, turning back to him, a questioning brow rising.

"What happens then?" he expanded. Surprising himself, because he was genuinely curious. And wanting to be somewhat hopeful in spite of himself, and in spite of the anger that hadn't left him yet. It had calmed somewhat, now that he'd been able to vent at least a portion of it. He had to admit, she'd been right to come here and try to address it. Even if they hadn't gotten through it all in one sitting…

She softened by the slightest of increments, noting the slightly less harsh lines on his face and his softer tone. "From there, we'll take it one step at a time – agreed?"

She was actually asking his opinion this time, he recognized. And it meant something. Whether or not he would like it to, it did mean something to him that she was asking. He nodded softly. Because what else was there to do, really?

"Agreed," he confirmed.

"Good. Then I'll see you at 07:00." She reached the doors, and they parted for her before she paused again, swiveling the top half of herself to toss a final, scrutinizing glance his way. "Try to get some sleep before breakfast," she finished.

He nodded. "You, too, Captain – _try_, at least," he qualified weakly.

"I'll try," she assured him quietly, with a shadow of that half-smile she usually kept in reserve for him under more normal circumstances. "I can promise to try."

She left him to ponder his thoughts, such as they were, in the solitary darkness. It was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that a woman had done that to him, he noted vaguely in the back of his mind. But maybe this time, just maybe, it would be to better effect.

He could only hope so.

* * *

He wasn't waiting for her in her own quarters, but, the very late hour notwithstanding, he was waiting for her hail. She called him, letting him know that she'd finished, and when he offered to come back over, she didn't want to turn him down, in spite of her exhaustion. She agreed, but told him to bring the dinner.

Her rations had been all but spent on the damned cookies, she lamented, unzipping her jacket and throwing it on the desk. Reports she'd been meant to peruse all day long were piled high upon it, but she threw the jacket over them, too. The reports would have to wait. It wasn't as if she hadn't been busy all damned day, first with the fighting, and then with the repairing of the ship.

The trying to repair other, less concrete things…

At least they were out of immediate danger. They could tentatively let out the breath they'd been holding, now that they'd disabled Rimmaz's ships. Voyager was battered to hell again, but they couldn't afford to stop, or to give the warships or Guard ships an opportunity to catch up to them. As long as they didn't stop, however, they would make it out of Jehnz-yin space in one piece. Most likely. That was what had been of primary concern to both of them, had been what they'd been focused on since early morning, but, having finally managed it, and having seen to the bulk of repairs, they could now _finally_ take a moment to attend to their own needs, physical or otherwise.

And it was ridiculous to be having dinner at this hour, but it was also not irregular for them, either. Typically, Chakotay would snack on something well before midnight to tide him over, but with rations restrictions…she sighed. He had to be starving by now, but she knew he'd have waited for her, anyway.

"How'd it go?" he inquired tentatively when he appeared barely a moment later, dinner in hand.

"All right," she returned, after giving it some serious thought… "I think. There's still some work to be done there, but I might've made at least a lasting impression."

"Want to tell me about it?" he offered.

They made short work of setting the table, an informal affair tonight with only the essentials, and dug into the double serving of alfredo pasta he'd selected while she recounted the experience for him. By the time she'd finished, informing him of the new patient he'd be taking first thing that morning, she was standing by the viewport, sipping the coffee they'd saved one ration for this evening. She'd offered him half, but he'd opted for trying to be able to get at least a few hours of sleep in before breakfast. But really, he wouldn't deprive her of what would be her only cup this week if it was the last thing to drink on the ship and he was dying of thirst, and she damned well knew it. And she fully appreciated that about him.

She'd insisted he take what was left of her water to compensate him, but he'd refused that, too. Insisting she'd need it for her morning rituals – for whatever the hell women had to do with their hair and makeup or whatever it might be, and she'd teased him for it. For having grown up with a sister, even, and still having no idea what those mysterious "rituals" entailed, but he'd only smiled back at her – patiently and what was undeniably charmingly. He pointed out the stray strand of hair that kept curling free from the rest of it to make his point, and she'd laughed again, assuring him that, this morning, she just hadn't found the time to restrain it properly. But she tucked it back behind her ear anyway, before taking her coffee and moving to the viewport to watch the stars streak by.

They passed a comfortable moment in silence before she eventually broke it. "Do you think you can handle it? Seeing him, without letting your personal feelings get in the way?"

"There aren't many personal feelings to speak of, since you set me straight on the situation, but of course I can," he qualified evenly from his reclining position at the table, where he'd been casually observing her. Still keeping his distance. "Did you really think I couldn't?"

"No. I didn't," she answered him with an over-tired smile, turning her gaze to him briefly. "Harry had doubts, though."

Chakotay winced. "I guess I'm not the only one who made his feelings known this week."

"No," she chuckled at his good-natured chagrin, "you're not. He was petrified when I told him he'd be reporting to you later."

"But you set him straight," Chakotay stated, not even considering it was a question.

She took another precious sip, savoring it as much as she savored the look on his face when she swallowed and corrected, "Nope."

"You _didn't_?"

"Well, where's the fun in that?" she shrugged innocently.

"True." He sighed, a long-suffering sound. But his dark eyes sparkled, belying his amusement at her logic, and the corners of her own mouth twitched in response.

"Not to mention that he's been a royal pain in the ass all week…"

"True again," he agreed, heartily enough.

"Besides," she qualified with a tiny sigh of her own, "I was tired."

"Good enough for me." He took it as a hint and finished clearing the table, putting the dishes into the tray to be recycled and then stood at the head of the now-clean table. She'd looked away again, lost in her own thoughts, and he took the opportunity to inspect her carefully. She was still thin. Her complexion not quite recovered from the liver damage, or their poor diet. But he thought some of that dullness was receding from her eyes, more even than before she'd left for the mess hall, and he decided to take it as a positive indication. While he watched her thinking and enjoying her vice, his thoughts couldn't help but wander over the conversation they'd had just before they'd come back aboard the ship over a week ago, and his hand, without conscious thought, strayed to his left pocket, his fingers worrying the empty wrapper he kept there at her request.

She heard the faint crinkling, and he knew she knew what it was as her eyes were drawn back to him. From her softening eyes and open posture, she seemed to be inviting him to join her at the viewport, and he broke in his determination not to, and went to stand by her side.

Her hair had fallen past her ear again, he noticed, with just the slight movement of her head as she'd turned to face him. He hadn't seen it out of place all week, hadn't expected to anymore, but tonight it seemed determined to misbehave until he adjusted it himself. He didn't restrain himself this time. Lifted his hand to that errant few strands of hair he'd been fixated on since he'd entered her quarters.

"Do you think it was enough?" he ventured quietly, as he tucked that troublesome hair behind her ear and let his hand rest where it was on cheek.

For a moment, she didn't say anything. Nor did she move, or seem inclined to remove his hand. Her gaze, as she stared back at him in the fleeting lights that were streaking past the window, was all at once sad, thoughtful, and hopeful as she mulled over the question. Thinking of all the ways she could answer him, of all the questions he was really asking her in the one. In that moment, which seemed to stretch out for eternity, she read so many things in those dark eyes she knew so well, and she knew he read as many in hers. Neither of them so much as breathed. A lifetime of experiences in such a short frame of time was being weighed, sifted through, and sorted by both of them.

They were all right now. At least…they were going to be, eventually. _All_ of them would be. If she or he had anything to say about it, that was.

But was it_ enough? _That was what he'd asked her. She pondered the question for eternal seconds more.

Finally, the faintest upturn to the corner of her mouth could be seen on the side of her face that was illuminated in the starlight, and she lifted her hand to place over his, holding his hand to her skin. Allowing herself to turn into his touch ever so slightly, and as she allowed herself to exhale, she felt him do the same.

"I hope so," she whispered.


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer**: See waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in chapter one, please

**Notes**: Cheshire, as always, is awesome for her help. That's just been a basic scientific law of this story for some time now. Anyone who is still with me, almost three years after the original posting of the story, is also awesome. Anyone we picked up along the way...fret not! You're all awesome, too. (Yeah, if it's not entirely clear, I'm grinning like an idiot right about now, as I press the "submit" button one last time...) This is it, folks. We're done.

_**Epilogue**_

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"_I can't have a relationship out here, Chakotay."_

It was what he'd expected, had believed she would say.

"_Forget protocol. It's frowned on, but we both know no one really cares as long as it's handled professionally by the officers involved. It's just been a personal philosophy of mine, especially since we've landed out here. One I've always felt was necessary."_

"_Why?" he managed to ask with sinking heart as her fingers continued kneading him. _

"_Because experience has reinforced it, over the years. I'm not one who handles loss very well __–__ particularly loss in which I can be argued to have any direct responsibility."_

He didn't think anyone handled that well, but, given his experience with her, his knowledge of her, on the whole, he hadn't been surprised that that was her answer.

He stood next to her, and this morning was the first time they'd set foot planetside since they'd fled from Ghanza Prime.

The planet was stable. It wasn't much _more_ than that, and lush vegetation was a thing of fantasy here more than fact, but the soil was adequate. With hard work, with the tools Voyager's crew had donated and carefully instructed them in the use of, the Oncaveat survivors of Jehnz-yin space should be able to make a home for themselves here.

Or so they were all betting on, at any rate.

As the two of them looked on, supervising the setup of the temporary little colony from afar, a light mist began falling, dusting the party of colorful, bedraggled figures in the valley below and causing them to glisten in the beams of sunlight still managing to steak through some of the clouds. The bolder reds, blues and yellows were their own, they recognized from afar, while the other colors, ranging toward more pastel and natural greens, were the Oncaveat. Both groups were mingling, working side by side as the camp began to take real, tangible shape before them all.

"I think they'll make it," Chakotay broke the silence between them to declare, his gaze still fixed below. His hands, like hers, and especially their knees and elbows, were caked in dirt, from where they'd spent hours that morning helping to dig out the foundations of several large would-be gardens – a thing still best done by hand and more rudimentary tools, rather than risk burning or destroying vital minerals in the soil by using faster methods, like phasers. "What do you think?"

"I think so, too," she confirmed, a firm nod punctuating her agreement. "For what they've been through, most of them have amazing resilience. Strength of spirit," she furthered upon a moment of reflection. "They're to be admired for that."

"I'd have to agree with you there," he returned evenly, adding, "but I think the same can be said of our own people."

He meant _their_ people – as in the Voyager crew, she knew, and her second nod was as automatic as it was emphatic. "I know. I'm proud of them. _All_ of them."

The marbled clouds continued to swirl over the sky above. Shadows flitted along the planes of her face as he stole a sidelong glance at her from the corner of his eye.

She was shaking her head in a familiar way, pursing her lips in what would have been a frown if she'd put more thought into it. "I can't ever seem to remember to tell them that as often as I should…"

"That you're proud of them?" She didn't correct him, confirmation enough, and he shrugged. "They know it."

"I hope so. That's no excuse for forgetting, though."

"You're working on it, Kathryn."

He assumed she nodded, although he didn't quite catch it as they continued to watch on.

Below, a slender, dark-clad figure was being led out into the crowd, a figure that stood out from among the double-armed, barrel-chested Oncaveat in a different way than the rest of the Voyager crew did, and the atmosphere visibly tensed as many speculative heads turned at the sight of her. A few stared. Some hostilely, if the distance didn't accuse them unjustly. Eventually, however, most heads turned back to the tasks at hand, and work resumed as the crowd settled.

"Do you think they'll learn to accept her?" Kathryn wondered aloud. Squinting through the mist as a particularly strong beam of light broke through the clouds, illuminating their bodies upon the high hill.

"I think so," he speculated. "With time." He squinted, too, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes as he peered at the figure in question. "That's Harry with her now…and Yurros, too, if I'm not mistaken."

It was hard to tell at this distance, but it would make sense. They'd prevailed upon Yurros, Shasta's mate, when Senator Narrus had outright refused to take Bimmah into their midst. Yurros, when summoned, had offered his aide, though he'd promised them nothing. He'd maintained that he didn't think Narrus really liked him – or much of anyone, for that matter, and they'd gotten the same impression. As a result, it had taken two weeks, but Narrus had eventually come back to them and retracted his refusal. He hadn't looked happy about the fact, but they hadn't needed him to. They'd just needed him to agree, and he had. By methods as yet unknown to the command team, Yurros had come through.

"Harry's looking better," she ventured, eyeing the gold-shouldered figure between the Jehnz-yin figure and the Oncaveat. "From what I've seen on the ship, anyway." She paused, then added a dry, "He's not acting like I'm contagious, at least."

He turned to her then, and her gaze was drawn to him at his movement. "He's all right. It's going to take time, but I think he finally realizes who he's really angry with."

She nodded curtly, an action he knew belied her approval of the information he'd imparted. "That's something, then. A step in the right direction. Neelix?"

"He wanted me to tell you, but I didn't get the chance earlier. He slept through the night last night. No nightmares."

She laughed at that, although it wasn't entirely a humor-filled sound. "Good for him. Maybe I can catch up with him at some point."

Chakotay blanched, and she felt bad immediately, and that was why she hated honesty, damn it, but even as she opened her mouth to take it back, to qualify her statement, he was returning a soft, "Me, too."

She nodded her understanding. He was about as much battered as she was, still. He understood.

"Well. We're out of the woods, at least. Not a sign of Jehnz-yin ships for over three weeks. I think it's safe to say they've finally given up."

It had only taken close to another two months for that to happen, and the entire time, Voyager had stopped only very briefly to glean absolutely necessary elements needed to continue their journey. Once from a moon, twice from a random, materials-rich nebula, and once at a deuterium-rich, Class-L planet they couldn't beam down to but had been able to transport raw materials aboard from.

Chakotay smiled grimly. "It seems that way," he agreed. "I think the Oncaveat will be safe here. For a while, anyway."

They'd done everything in their power to select a safe, obscure location that the Jehnz-yi wouldn't think to investigate, even going so far as to sacrifice ideal climate and weather-pattern conditions. This planet was chilly to Oncaveat standards, not as warm as the tropical climates they tended towards, were used to, but they'd bypassed several closer, more likely options, because they wanted the Jehnz-yi to believe that Voyager intended to keep the Oncaveat with them.

Of course they couldn't do that, and, frankly, until they were able to stop and gather _all_ of the supplies they by now so desperately needed, they couldn't continue carrying the Oncaveat aboard Voyager for even a day longer. They just didn't have the resources.

"Seven's found us several likely locations to restock within the next dozen light years or so," Chakotay informed her now, as he hadn't gotten the chance to do so earlier on the bridge, when she'd been down in the cargo bay, meeting with Senator Narrus for a final time. "In the meantime, we'll put our heads down and make a few more sacrifices, but we'll get through it, like always."

She sighed before she could catch herself. It didn't really speak much to her character that the very first, traitorous thought to make its way into her mind was that those sacrifices undeniably included–

She heard a soft chuckle bubbling up from deep within his chest and slanted a suspicious glance out of the corner of her eye at him. Had he just read her–

"Fortunately for a certain captain, who will remain nameless, someone had the presence of mind to go back into her ready room a while ago, collect certain inedible objects, and discretely recycle them."

"What?" He just plain annoyed her, occasionally. Was there a reason he was speaking in riddles? She wanted to know.

Chakotay was unperturbed. "He saved that single ration the recycled objects gave him for just such an emergency, and it should be exactly enough for one cup…"

At least she knew how this was going to _end_, and her face brightened considerably through her lingering confusion…

"…of coffee."

She'd turned to stare at him by a few words into his mystifying speech, scouring her mind to apply the deliberately obscure references and find an occasion that would fit whatever the hell he was talking about, and after a full minute of watching him watch her do it, the grin ever widening on his face and offering the hint of dimples that had just barely begun to return to his filling-out face, it finally struck her.

"The cookies," she gasped out in realization. Thunderstruck, her jaw dropping. "I thought they'd disappeared when I went back later, but I couldn't guess what had happened to them. Did you _really_?"

"I did. _Really_," he teased. Obviously pleased with himself on several levels.

"Neelix didn't know?"

"I said 'discreetly', Kathryn."

Flushing slightly, she turned away from him to stare at the crowd she no longer really saw below. "I don't deserve you, you know," she finally managed in acknowledgment of his ridiculous thoughtfulness.

"Hell no, you don't," he agreed heartily, his grin breaking out again as her head swiveled to glare. "But as far as jobs go, there aren't many better options out here. Very few people seem to be hiring in this quadrant…"

"Like I'd give you a reference, anyway," she quipped, back on comfortable ground.

"Probably not, but that's because you're mean. Tuvok might…"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Just to get me off the ship."

And at that, she had to laugh. "You have a point there. So I suppose I should probably be nice to you."

"Probably," he agreed easily.

She turned back to him. All trace of humor gone from her face, and making his breath catch at the look of complete and utter seriousness – of _vulnerability_ – she was openly displaying before him.

"Did you keep your wrapper?" she asked without preamble.

He felt heat flush his face then drain down through his whole body. Damn it, would she never stop doing that to him?

He'd been expecting her to bring it up soon, true, but…just not quite _this_ soon.

He swallowed once to moisten his throat. "Yes," he returned quietly, what he deluded himself into thinking passed for evenly, reaching into his left pocket to fish it out with much crinkling and crackling. He held the brown foil out to her, watching as she took it, turning it over and over in her hand in silence.

Chocolate. The wonderful smelling, tricky Jehnz-yin vegetable ration that, for several wonderful seconds, tasted amazing. Until the sweet, naturally waxy coating on the vegetable wore away under the enzymes in human saliva and the bitter, harsh taste of the _actual_ vegetable took over, that was.

"_But I think by now we've established that my way isn't exactly working for me. Maybe not for either one of us, anymore. It would be one thing, maybe, if we didn't know how we felt. If we didn't know how each other felt, but we do, and it's foolish to try and pretend our feelings don't already exist." She pressed the wrapper into his hand. "So…it's silly, I know, but…when we get back to Voyager, I want you to keep this with you for a while. And I'll do the same." With her other hand, she removed another wrapper from her other pocket, one she'd apparently saved from a previous meal. She held it up so he could see what it was before folding it up to the same proportions as his, slipping it back into her pocket as he watched._

_As he watched in confusion, that was. His brows knitted together. "Why?"_

"_Because it's a perfectly appropriate metaphor to what we have to be careful we're not doing."_

"_Which is?"_

"_Which is fooling ourselves into thinking jumping into a relationship is the right thing to do, just because we both know how we feel now."_

"_I think I understand what you're saying…" he glanced down at the wrapping she'd pressed into his hand, "but not exactly how it relates to the foil."_

_She saw that, and smiled softly. "Not the foil __–__ the 'chocolate'." He frowned, and she leaned back on her heels on the bed, where she continued to kneel next to him. "On the surface, love is a wonderful thing. It's enticing. Exciting. Human instinct is to follow it wherever it springs." Her gaze turned sadder, more inward as she continued. "But love in practice has two sides to it, particularly the longer you're in it. Scratch the surface, stay in a relationship long enough, and you usually find other layers. Layers that aren't quite as nice."_

_He was beginning to understand now. "Especially in our situation," he realized quietly, meeting her eyes. _

"_Yes. Especially in mine. I have to make sure my first priority is the ship at all times. That doesn't usually work in a relationship."_

"_Not with someone who doesn't fully understand why, no," he agreed. _

_Seska hadn't __–__ or, hadn't seemed to, and who the hell knew what was really going on the Cardassian spy's mind, anyway. That was the last time he'd tried the "lovers on the same ship" deal, however, and it was because she couldn't handle not being his top priority that he'd broken it off. And he DIDN'T want to think about her now, of all times, but that was a large part of what life was about. Making mistakes and learning from them. And he had been in Kathryn's place himself, did know exactly what she meant by it. Could __**he**__ accept not being the top priority in her life? Under the circumstances they were contemplating getting into?_

_He found he didn't quite know the answer to that, now that he thought about it…_

"_I want to make sure we aren't doing this because it looks nice on the surface," her voice was breaking over his thoughts. "I want to make sure…if we do this…we've both fully thought it through. I want to make sure that we're prepared. And I want to make sure that what I risk by doing this…what we risk…isn't based on a whim, or the thrill of the moment."_

_He understood her near completely now. Generally speaking, he was one to act, to leap when opportunity presented itself. One to live in the here and now, because the future wasn't guaranteed, as experience had taught him. She was the opposite __–__ at least in matters of the heart. She guarded herself, much more than he did. Experience had taught her to be that way, too. And yet she'd had no more luck in love than he'd had. _

_He thought he was understanding her now, though…understanding the decision all of her own self-professed, painstaking thought had been going into these past few weeks that she'd been carefully avoiding this conversation. She was trying something new, something more like his route to even consider exploring this option with him, but she was right. She was absolutely right that there were more things to consider than his usual, leap-before-you-look method would take into consideration. So then in this instance, maybe…_

_Maybe, what was required was a mixture of both. His style and hers. Thinking first…and __**then**__ leaping. _

_Hopefully. She wasn't saying no out of hand, or habit, and that was more than he'd expected._

_She pressed the square she'd folded deeper into his hand, closing his fingers around it. "So I want you to keep this with you. Think about everything I've said. Think about everything what we're considering entails __–__ the drawbacks, as well as the rewards. When this mess with the Oncaveat is over…when I'm ready, and hopefully, so are you…you can tell me what you've decided when I ask you for it again."_

She'd just done so. She continued to stare at it, as if inspecting it for wear and ventured, "Have you had a chance to think it over?"

"Yes." He'd done little else in the few spare moments they'd had over the past few weeks. "Have you?"

_Stupid question_, he thought immediately, wincing inwardly. She had, if she'd asked him for it back already. Kathryn, however, didn't appear to care whether it was an intelligent question or not. She simply nodded thoughtfully as she combined the two foils and refolded them together.

"I still don't know if this can work. But as I said, I think it's become pretty clear by now that what I've been doing hasn't been working, either."

He nodded, understanding all of the reservations she had that were still in play. A few of which he shared, upon deep reflection. "We can try it slowly," he suggested.

"It'll _have_ to be slowly," she confirmed, meeting his gaze for the first time to reinforce the notion.

Her answer was "yes", he realized fully, upon staring deep into her blue eyes. And so was his, as he knew she read in his own eyes by now.

"Think you'll get spooked if things go too fast?" The grin was stretching broad across his tanned face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"I'm already spooked," she admitted candidly. "And how the hell _you_ aren't is beyond me."

"Because of how mean you are," he nodded, pretending to be giving the matter a good deal of grave thought. "Well you're right, that worries me, but I think I know how to handle you by now." He took a step forward when she reluctantly chuckled, his eyes long past the point of smoldering as his gaze was drawn to her smile, her lips, and hers, in turn, was drawn to his. "Am I allowed to kiss you now?" He was already starting to lean down and do so.

She shook her head, drawing subtly back from him. "Not in front of the crew," she explained, her lips twitching in amusement at his obvious surprise at her refusal.

He nodded, falling back a step as he straightened but losing none of the intensity, and they both felt it in waves of heat, despite the fact that they weren't touching. "That ashamed to be seen with me?" he teased, to lighten the mood.

"Mortified," she affirmed with a grin of her own. "But I'd also prefer not to make it public knowledge until we know if this will work."

"Okay." He accepted that because he understood the prudence of it, but his eyes still smoldered as they passed over her again. "Then can I kiss you once we're back on the ship? Behind closed doors?"

"I thought we agreed to take this _slowly_," she teasingly reminded him, starting to – damn her too-fair complexion – flush deeply under the power of that gaze.

"Right." He looked away again, turning his body so that they stood side by side, almost shoulder to shoulder at crest of their hill. The picture of circumspectness to anyone who might be glancing up at them from time to time. "My mistake," he murmured to her out of the corner of his mouth. "Then can I kiss you…_slowly_…once we're back on the ship?"

"God, yes," she emphatically agreed, the images that simple thought invoked doing wonderful, tormenting things to her whole body in reaction. "You'd damn well better, after all this!"

He chuckled low again, the deep sound sending more ripples of warmth, of pure heat through her. They passed another moment in silence, looking down over the crowd. Finally, he broke.

"Kathryn."

"Hmm?" She seemed lost in her thoughts, her voice low and lazy when she responded.

He didn't much care. "Can we go back to the ship _now_?"

"You read my mind," she returned immediately, the clarity returned at once to her voice, giving him a delicious indication of where her thoughts had actually been a moment ago, and her hand was already tapping the gleaming metal over her chest. "Janeway to Tuvok. The commander and I are done here. We're ready to beam back to the ship at your earliest convenience."

As the muted reply came over the comm. to the two humans standing over the rest, two additional unseen figures, which had been watching the events from even higher above, turned to each other.

"Well, they made it out of Jehnz-yin space, and that's the first step. Do you think they'll make it all the way home?" the first asked the second.

"You're damned right they will," the second figure responded forcefully. "That's my daughter down there leading them, after all!"

John chuckled, an action that, while unheard, provoked another ripple of light moisture to be wrung from the swirling clouds around them. "I honestly didn't think she would take our advice."

"She still might not, depending on how things go. She listened to what we had to say, took it into consideration, but when it came down to it, _she_ had to be the one to convince herself to try. As long as she's alive – and after that, too – Kathryn will be the one to make her own decisions."

"Well of course," John chuckled again, amused to the core of his silvery being, and more list rain was shaken down over the crowd. "She's _your_ daughter, after all."

Edward Janeway grinned. "Exactly." He grew more serious, humbled enough by now to know how little his own predictions often meant, in the grand scheme of things. "Will she be all right?" he asked quietly, in spite of the bravado with which he'd bragged a moment ago. He thought of the crew he'd watched closely from the moment the array that had brought them to this quadrant had been destroyed, on Kathryn's orders, and added, "Will they?"

"You know I can't tell you that," John returned just as seriously this time. "No one can."

Edward considered his answer for a moment and then clasped his hands behind his back, straightening. "Well, I think they will be. They have each other, and they have hope."

"Hope is a strong asset," John acceded enigmatically. "But do you think it will be enough?"

Edward thought long and hard. After a moment, in which the two figures on the hill shimmered and disappeared in the beam of light that had still been pushing through the clouds, he decided in a fervent whisper, "I certainly hope so."


End file.
